Dead To The World The Rewrite
by LizD
Summary: Same cases - reset after Brumby returns to WA.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter One**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

**New Spoilers:** Season 5

**Notes: **Time line of this story: End of Season 5 -- shortly after Brumby comes back to the USA.

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.

So … I was sitting around one day in the Spring of 2009 (five and half years after I wrote this … saga) and decided that it needed more than an edit (in case you haven't noticed I have been editing my posts – they could probably still use a qualified beta, but they are better). Anyway, I have a friend who I have known for a LONG, LONG time and she was never a JAG watcher in fact she used to tease me about watching "BigHead" (her pet name for DJE). Anyway, shit happens and she found herself with time on her hands and S1 & S2 of the DVDs of JAG (unwrapped) in her DVD rack (truth be told they weren't hers they were her mother's). So she thought_ WHAT THE HELL? Let's see what all the HubBub is about. _Time passes as it always seems to do, and I did a check in with her about her JAG-Watch. She had gotten to Boomerang and Sydney Harbor in S5 (I will admit I sent her S4 but S3, S5, & S6 were on her dime). She too thought it was crap. I think she very politely called it 'bad writing' and 'out of character' and was 'pissed at JAG'. I had to agree and often struggled in my JAG Fics to explain that whole meshugass in some logical way. All of that is leading up to my edit of **_Dead To The World_** and decided that rather than an edit, I would rewrite it and set this story back to the end of Season 5. Mac has Brumby's ring, and Brumby has just relocated to US to be close to his lady love. To give you a better place in the time line (as the show has been gone for a while), S5 started with Harm back flying and THE KING OF THE GREENIE BOARD (post Jordan and Pre-Renee) and ended with SURFACE WARFARE and Brumby's return after taking some odd detour through Australia. There are certain elements of this story that will not change but it will be different enough to warrant a scan, if you are so inclined. And if you are looking for the original, not sure I still have it **_in toto_**, but email me and I can hunt it down.

Chapter One

**0326 EST**

**Rabb Residence**

**North of Union Station **

Harm was dead to the world until the pounding on the door wrenched him back to life.

.

It was only Thursday and it had already been a rough week: very little sleep, too much work, little or no teamwork, and Renee. She was beginning to hang on him like a cheap suit – a cheap woolen suit in the middle of summer. She was getting more needy, intrusive and presumptuous with each passing day. It had been escalating and was getting impossible to take. She was demanding more time and attention, pressing about the status of their relationship and the future. It all stemmed from Mic and Mac. Brumby had arrived back on the scene six weeks earlier, and Renee took that as a major victory. She was constantly asking questions about Mic and Mac, Mac and Mic, Mic and Mac. _Wasn't it romantic Mic just giving up everything to be close to her? Did Mic move in with Mac? Did Mac move that stunning diamond solitaire (wouldn't every woman love to have one?) and set a date? Don't they make a lovely couple? Doesn't Mac look so much happier? Won't she make a beautiful bride?_

How and why was Harm expected to know or CARE to know anything about **MicMac: The Happy Couple**? And the answer to all of those was NO … capital N, capital O. No, it wasn't romantic – it was presumptuous, rude, selfish and a ploy he would expect from someone like Brumby. No, they hadn't moved in together but Harm had no intention of 'dropping by' Mac's apartment to find out what the living arrangements were. No, she hadn't moved the ring – not that right or left made a damn bit of difference to anyone but a woman. No, they hadn't set a date nor did it look like they were going to any time soon. No, they didn't make a lovely couple with Mic's drooling and Mac's giggling – they were worse than teenagers – and quite frankly Harm felt that it was affecting Mac's work. No, Mac didn't look happier; point of fact she looked tense, miserable and irritable – honestly, she looked very sad and lonely (in spite of the giggling). _**Be careful what you wish for, Mac**_. And No, if she didn't get that miserable look out of her eyes, she wouldn't make a beautiful anything.

They had been working a case together that week. Together was not quite how they were working, but they were both assigned to defend General Fredrickson; Mattoni was defending. The General was accused of dereliction of duty which led to the death of six marines in his command. The situation was serious as the General was highly decorated and respected and this would definitely leave a blotch on his previously unblemished nearly 4 decades of service. The first major loss for the defense team of MacKenzie/Rabb was trying to get the general out of the brig pending the trial. Mattoni had presented an innocent trip across state lines as an attempt to flee; the judge bought it. There was something off about the General. It didn't appear that there was anything nefarious about the case; just an op gone bad. Harm and Mac had expected to get the General off with a discharge from service with all pay and benefits; he was past his retirement date anyway and Mattoni would probably have agreed until that excursion. Then it turned into a full blown defense where they were dotting all the Is and crossing all the Ts. Harm had to admit that something was off about the General and it was hard to find peers or subordinates that would be good character witnesses. All week long Harm and Mac had been following different leads and not really comparing notes. It seemed easier, but not productive. Earlier that day they had gotten into a bit of a discussion that didn't end well. That had also been a pattern for several weeks too.

.

The pounding continued and someone was calling his name.

Bleary eyed he checked the clock and tried to pretend like he knew what the numbers meant. He stumbled to the door. "SOMEBODY BETTER BE DEAD!" he bellowed.

"RABB!" the voice he didn't care if he ever heard again yelled back him. "IT'S MIC!!!"

Harm leaned his head against it and closed his eyes. "Go away Brumby," he started to pull away.

"IS MAC WITH YOU?!"

Harm didn't understand the question so he opened the door. "What?" he barked. "What do you want Brumby?"

"Is she here?"

"Who?"

"Sarah - is she here?"

"Why would she be here?" Brumby's question didn't make sense.

"Where is Sarah?"

"How the hell should I know?" he snapped. "If she isn't with you; she is probably at home – in bed – asleep … where all normal people should be at this hour."

"Do you think I would be here if she were home?" Brumby was sounding very desperate but Harm couldn't find it in him to care. "When did you hear from her last?" Mic continued.

"I don't know – around 20 – 2030." He wiped his face with his hands. "What time is it?"

"After 3. She's missing," he announced.

"Mac can take care of herself!" Harm declared. "She probably came to her senses," he muttered under his breath.

"Is there anyone else she would be with?" Mic pressed.

"At three o'clock in the morning?" Harm was annoyed with Brumby and his dramatics.

"Is there any where else she could be?"

"The office? A Hotel? Who knows?"

"The case that you two are working on?"

"What about it?" he asked.

Just then Webb blasted into Harm's apartment.

"What the hell?" Harm barked.

"Is she here?" Webb asked.

"FOR THE LAST TIME … Mac is not here … doesn't anyone use the phone anymore?"

"If you answered we would have," Webb offered snidely.

With Webb involved it might be something more than a hysterical Brumby. "Webb, what the HELL is going on?"

Webb was calling his office, "We got intel tonight that Fredrickson maybe a survivalist," with that he turned and spoke to whoever answered and quickly hung up.

"A general in the United States Marine Corps?? A survivalist?" Harm was unimpressed by that ' breaking news'. "Isn't that redundant?"

"We are talking anarchist," Brumby added. "Domestic terrorism, the dark side of the KKK."

"Who is WE?" He looked back at Webb.

Webb was not about to answer. He had already given too much information to Brumby.

Harm continued, "What does Mac have to do with this?"

Webb looked away; he was too embarrassed to say the words out loud.

Brumby jumped in, "She was accessing certain sensitive files and she may have stumbled on to it."

"Stumbled?" Harm growled. "You didn't push her?" Harm was sick to death of Webb using JAG like his personal investigators. One of these days it was going to get one of them killed or worse. Harm went to the phone and dialed her number.

"You think I haven't been calling her every five minutes for the past four hours?" Brumby asked.

Harm could really careless about what Brumby didn't or didn't do.

"I had nothing to do with this," Webb protested. "Believe me."

"I don't," Harm shook his head. "So what do you know?"

"You appear to be the last person to have seen her. Her car is still at JAG and the guards never saw her leave."

"She called me at 2200 and left a message saying she was on to something and would be working very late," Brumby added.

Harm had called her at 2220 and 2245 but she didn't answer. He assumed she had gone home and was with Brumby, or just didn't want to talk to him – that was more likely the truth. She was pretty pissed off at him when he left.

"Fredrickson is still in the brig," Webb announced.

Harm shook his head, like that was a STUPID comment. "Don't these survivalist types travel in packs?"

**Time: Unknown**

**D.C. Warehouse**

A van pulled up to warehouse looking building that was very poorly lit. Two blonde men, one mid-forties and the other not more than twenty, dressed in marine uniforms got out, looked furtively around to ensure that they are not being observed. They opened the side door to the van and pulled out a limp body. The head was wrapped in a hood, but it was a woman also dressed in a marine uniform. They struggled to get her inside. The older man re-emerged carrying her uniform jacket; he padlocked the door, got in the van and drove away.

**0436 EST**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, VA**

Harm entered from his office. "My office door is open … I left it locked and the Fredrickson case files are missing," Harm stated. "The only copies we have left are the ones I took home." Harm noticed that it looked like there was a big struggle in Mac's office. She didn't go without a fight.

"Is that blood?" asked Brumby looking at the corner of the desk.

"This is a crime scene – everyone out!" demanded the Admiral. "Rabb, Webb with me." He looked toward Brumby who was off to the side. "We'll find her, Commander," he said as gently as he could. Brumby was an outsider and would always be an outsider and AJ Chegwidden didn't like outsiders. "But you can't be here now … you are … for all intents and purposes a civilian, go home."

"Sir, I am not going anywhere?"

"Yes Brumby … you are," the admiral was stern again. "Go home, and that's an order."

"Yes, sir."

The two men followed after the admiral, and Brumby remained where he was.

**Chegwidden's Office **

In the office, no one sat.

"OK Webb – tell me what you know."

"We have reason to believe that General Harris Fredrickson, USMC is actually Frank Harris – the second lieutenant in the While Blood for America group."

"When did you figure this out?" AJ asked.

"We have known about Harris for years, but not that he was Fredrickson."

"When did you know?" the admiral pressed again.

Webb took a deep breath. "This only came to my attention a couple of hours ago – this is not my area – I am strictly foreign. I was only alerted when it was discovered that someone at JAG – namely Sarah - was accessing certain sensitive files on Harris."

"We have been investigating him for a week now," Harm stated. "You were just alerted today?"

"Rabb – I'll get to you," the admiral silenced him and Rabb came to attention again. "So, what was different about tonight?"

"Fredrickson is clean," Webb said by way of explanation to Harm's accusation. "Mac put the two together. She found the link between Harris and Fredrickson. She did in one night what our guys could not do in six years."

"And you just sat and watched?" Harm accused.

"No, we didn't know where she was leading us. We just followed."

"Three steps behind," Harm sniped.

"As you were commander," the admiral warned again. "You stood by and let her do all the work?"

"It isn't the first time we have had JAG or NCIS or the FBI do our leg work for us."

Harm was busting at the seams. Chegwidden was growing more livid with each word Webb spoke. "So what happened?"

"Our guy was about an hour behind Mac. When he figured out what she had found, he called me. I tried to find Mac. I didn't think she was in danger, I just wanted to warn her to be careful."

"It was just a courtesy call?" Harm interjected.

"Fredrickson was already caught – in the brig for Christ's sake."

"And you never thought about anyone that might be working with him?" Harm sniped again.

"Commander – if you don't shut up – you will be excused," AJ warned again.

Harm looked forward again and came to the best version of attention he could when ever fiber in his being was telling him to rip the information out of Webb forcibly.

"When was this?" the admiral continued.

"Hours ago – five hours," Webb continued to try to not take blame, but it was hard.

"Well it looks as though you weren't the only people following her lead," he looked to Rabb. "And where were you? You were working this case together," he accused.

"Yes sir," Harm looked worried and angry. "Sir, I left Colonel MacKenzie here at 2030 hours. She wanted to stay – finish up some research; I went to pick up the forensic reports. We agreed to meet back up in the morning."

"So you didn't speak to her after you left?" AJ pressed.

"Sir, I called here around 2245 but there was no answer."

"We have evidence that she was here – on her computer at 2346," Webb added.

"Are we sure it was her?" asked the admiral.

"No," Webb admitted.

Back to Rabb, "You weren't concerned when she didn't answer? Did you try her home? Her cell?"

"Yes, sir. I called her home, no answer. Her cell phone was off. I assumed she was in transit, sir, or … hadn't gone home."

"Assumed," the admiral realized that Harm was still standing at attention, but did not release him.

"Yes, sir," Harm's faced washed with shame. The new rules were still being defined between Harm and Mac as to what was appropriate and what wasn't now that she had Mic back in her life. Harm did not make that an easy process; it was driving a large wedge between them and their teamwork was suffering. He said again, "Yes, sir."

The admiral knew that there was trouble between them – hardly the first time - but the Brumby development had just amped it up. He knew that they would work it out professionally in time. It is also true that if the admiral were in the commander's shoes; he probably would not have been concerned either. "Gunny!"

Gunny stepped through the door quickly; he had been there for thirty minutes waiting for orders (he had already started his own investigation – call it initiative). "Reporting as ordered, sir."

"Get anyone you need in here. I want everyone that has been in or around this place in the past twenty-four – forty-eight hours present and accounted for. This office should be treated like a crime scene. And I want you to get me everything you can on this Fredrickson / Harris person. You can start with the CIA file," he glared at Webb.

"It's classified," Webb stated and then relented. "I will have a copy sent to you right away."

"Focus on known associates. … And get Brumby out of here. Dismissed."

"Aye sir." Gunny left.

The admiral turned his attention back to Clay. "Webb what are you doing about this?"

"I've got people confirming the wear-abouts of all the people close to Harris."

"What about Fredrickson? Harris? Whatever," he looked at Harm. "Where is he now?"

"The brig at Quantico, sir," Harm answered. "The guards have been doubled and there hasn't been any communication – in or out." Harm braved the next question, "Sir, request permission to interrogate the gen – Harris."

"Stand in line commander," the admiral spat out. "You were defending him, correct?"

Harm nodded.

"The colonel was prosecuting?"

"No sir, she was … she is co-counsel. Mattoni was prosecuting."

"Fine, get Mattoni in here," the admiral barked to anyone outside his office who was listening. Harm continued to stand at attention. "Looks like you get to be the good cop, Rabb. You are with me. We leave for Quantico in 60 minutes."

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

"Aye sir," Rabb walked out.

"Webb I don't need to tell you -."

"I am already on it, AJ."

"No, no you are not. If you were on it – we wouldn't be here right now."

"You know how critical the first twenty-four hours are," Webb warned.

"I know what the possible outcomes are and I know the odds. You just better pray that the odds are in your favor, Webb. I want that file … now."

"You'll have it." Webb nodded and left.

The admiral looked frustrated and angry. "Damn it, Mac."

**Time: Unknown**

Location: Unknown

"Is that how long we are going to wait?" she asked.

"Mac!" he warned.

"We're not in Washington; we're not even one the same continent."

"Location doesn't change who we are."

"Most men would disagree with you."

"I know. I disagree with myself sometimes too."

"You still can't let go."

"Not yet."

A hand on Mac's shoulder turned her attention to Mic. He pulled her into a cloying embrace declaring his love and begging her to marry him. Before she was sure of her answer, he had slipped the ring on her finger and was kissing her. She saw Harm start to walk away. He glanced back with a look of disapproval and disgust.

Mac tried to pull away from Brumby but he had a hold of her wrist. "Harm," she called after him. "You said 'No'," she defended.

"I said 'not yet'," he corrected. "And you couldn't wait."

"Wait? For how long?" she pressed.

"We'll never know." Harm decreed, turned and walked away.

Mic turned her back to face him. He was talking but it wasn't making sense. He was saying words that she wanted to hear, making promises that she had been longing to hear for years, giving her everything she ever thought she wanted, but she couldn't understand him. She was struggling to free herself.

A hand on Mac's shoulder got her attention. Her first thought was Harm. He had come back to get her, to fight for her, to win her away from Brumby, declare his feelings. She turned and her head was immediately covered by a hood. The hand turned into a vice as he gripped her shoulder and she cried out. Mic was gone; Harm was gone; there was no one there to help her. "You are all alone now, lady," a deep gravelly voice growled. "No MAN here to save you." She was slapped hard across the face splitting her lip. The stranger demanded her silence and her obedience. She could taste the blood in her mouth but she would not yield to his demand. The harder she fought back; the harder he did. He wrenched her arms up behind her back and held on tightly. Her struggle continued using every bit of training, but he was too strong for her. He ripped open her uniform jacket and she gasped fearing the worst. "Don't flatter yourself, Colonel," he spit at her. "Just need to send a message." He ripped off the jacket completely and slammed her face first into the wall. She felt handcuffs clamp tightly around her wrists. "Now we are going to take a little ride, but it is lights out for you." Mac felt a sharp prick in her neck and nothing more.

Mac painfully realized that she was conscious and her dream turned nightmare was actually a memory – albeit jumbled. Her internal clock was off so there was no way of knowing the time. She was on a bed or a cot or something reasonably soft and horizontal. It was dark, very dark and she felt something over her face. She was still hooded. Her hands were bound over her head, and her feet were bound below. Her mouth was not gagged but it was so dry it felt full of cotton, bloody cotton. She tried to struggle free, but each movement sent another wave of pain through her head. She was nauseated. She had been drugged.

She stayed still for a moment and two male voices filtered in from the other room. They were speaking with a heavy southern or Midwestern drawl – it could have been the effects of the drug - but she thought they were discussing whether or not to kill her now or later. She tried again to free herself. She kicked and struggled enough to knock something over. The door opened.

"Still trying to get away?" said the very deep gravelly voice. "Some bitches never learn." She felt him looming over her. "Too bad really," he announced. "So pretty … so …. such a waste." Mac felt a hand on her calf moving toward her thigh. Panic swept through her. Another man came scurrying in and again a sharp prick in her arm and in seconds she was too weak to struggle. She heard her tormenter rail against the other man. The door was closed again. The men started arguing again but Mac was unable to stay awake.

**0600 EST **

**Rabb's Office**

His phone was ringing as he walked into his office nearly an hour later. He and the admiral had been going over the case and incorporating the information that Webb provided. Without looking at the caller ID he answered quickly. "MAC?"

"Renee," came the overly cheerful reply. "Why did you think Mac was calling you at such an hour?"

"Renee, I am sorry I can't talk right now."

"But you could talk to Mac?"

"Look Renee, we have a bit of a situation here --." Her jealousy and accusations were impossible. They had had a huge discussion the day before about a double date with Mac and Brumby which she and Brumby had planned and Harm had no interest in attending. Renee was possibly the only person who was happy to see Mic Brumby moved back to the USA. Harm certainly wasn't and if Mac wanted to ruin her life with that guy …

"A situation that you are working on with Mac?" she asked snidely. "Did you go home last night? You never called me back."

Oh yes, he went home. He was home when her 15 phone calls came in to his home machine, and he was there when the 15 messages asking him to call her came in. He deleted them all (there were actually only 3 calls and the last one said she was going to bed and would call him in the morning). He had never ignored a direct request before. He told her he was working, and he was. He wasn't about to entertain every one of her neuroses. He wasn't about to call her when he got home as if she were checking up on him. "… I can't talk right now."

"Are we still on for lunch? I called to see if we could push it back an hour … and I was going to take you to breakfast, but I guess Mac has –"

"No lunch, no breakfast," he stopped her insipid babble. "I will call you when I can."

"What is going on?"

"I told you there is a situation, I can't talk about it. I will call you when I can."

"When will that be?" she said with a weak hurt voice.

"Good bye, Renee." He said with too much finality and hung up and checked the battery on his phone - fully charged – in case Mac called. Why he would think she would call him first he didn't bother to explain, he just wanted to be prepared if she did.

About ten minutes later Renee called back. "I just heard about Mac … where could she be?" Clearly she had talked to Brumby and didn't have the sense God to stay out of it.

Harm got off the phone as quickly as he could. He wasn't consciously aware of it, but he had made his decision that the next conversation with Renee would be to end their relationship, but it would have to wait. It didn't matter right then.

**0659 EST **

**On the Road Near Quantico **

Harm was driving and the admiral was reading the file that Webb had on Fredrickson. Harm could not help playing over in his head the last conversation he had with Mac.

.

Since Sydney, more particularly since Brumby showed up, things between Harm and Mac got very strained. It seemed that almost everything they talked about somehow came back around to Mic and Mac: The Couple. It was never a long discussion or a discussion at all, just off hand comments, snipes and jabs. When considered together her position was: She did not ask him to come. She did think it was an amazing commitment to a relationship and had to respect that. They were not engaged; they were still just dating, but clearly dating exclusively with a purpose. They were 'going steady.' They weren't living together. Finally there was no reason NOT to be with Mic as no other man was interested.

Harm couldn't help but point out all the things that were wrong with her reasoning. Of course she had encouraged Mic to give up all he had and move to the USA, no man would do that without some encouragement. Harm did not see it as an 'amazing' anything and nothing that demanded respect. It was a gesture and a pretty easy one to make as there was nothing for him in Australia. He thought the whole 'status' of the relationship was a pretty meaningless distinction. She had taken a diamond ring from the man, she wore the ring – it really didn't matter if it was the left or right hand – from that moment on she was sending a message to all other men that she was involved, committed and off the market and REAL MAN wouldn't try to break up a relationship so if anyone was interested, he would have kept it to himself.

The night she disappeared there actually was more of a discussion but not about Mic, it was about them and the topic was what happened in Sydney. It didn't end well. It started with him declaring the double date that Renee and Mic had planned was ludicrous.

"Why ludicrous?" asked Mac. "I thought you and I were friends … colleagues … just because you don't like my choice in men, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"

"I don't like Mic," he stated.

"You don't know Mic."

"I know all I need to know about him."

"You are acting like a jealous lover?" she pushed. He had been acting that way for weeks and she was sick of it. "Why is that?"

Harm had to bite his tongue.

"You act like Mic took something away from you?" she pressed. "But it was nothing you wanted, so why do you care?"

"I never said …"

"No, you never said … never did anything."

"I didn't know I was …"

"What?" she pushed. "Didn't know you were WHAT?"

"I didn't know you were interested," he turned it back on her.

"You clearly were no interested enough to ask," she pronounced in victory.

"Oh … but you did!" he pushed back on her. "Just what exactly were you asking for anyway? Had Mic already asked you to marry him and you just wanted one last night before you committed yourself?"

"Don't be –."

"You sure as hell weren't looking for anything that would last further than sunup."

"Excuse me?" She was indignant.

"_We aren't in Washington? We aren't even on the same continent_?" he mocked. "What the hell was that? "

Mac wasn't about to defend herself. Wasn't about to point out the fact that she gave him an opening that was assured of a positive outcome and he shut her down completely. She protected his precious ego, laid hers bare, and he still wouldn't open up. She was rejected, and there was no other way to look at it. She was wrong for what she was feeling and thinking and she totally miscalculated the response she was going to get. He didn't want her. She had thought that the worst part was that she would have to see him every day with that scene behind them, but it was far worse seeing him react to Brumby.

"What was supposed to happen when we did return, huh?" he asked.

"Guess we will never know."

"Never … that sounds about right."

Mac's expression was unreadable. "I have work to do, and I suspect you do as well."

"I do," Harm left knowing that he lost that battle. That he was as wrong then, as he was that night in Sydney. He wasn't about to admit that he was more than jealous and he regretted not taking her up on her offer, but what he regretted more was that she didn't wait for him to make his counter move; a move he would have made when they were back in Washington.

Later that evening, he had been waiting for her to finish up.

"How late are you planning on staying?" he asked when he had had enough of her working silently on her own (which his ego took as a cold shoulder).

"Until I get the answers I am looking for."

"What are the questions?" he tried to pretend like they were working together on the case and they there were no hard feelings.

"Can't say, but there is something that is just not right with the general."

"He's our client, Mac."

"I am aware of that," she said snidely. "That doesn't mean he is innocent. I want – we should be prepared."

"Could you be slightly more specific?"

She looked up at him and was about to explain her whole thought process, but changed her mind. It was too many words to exchange with him. "No."

"Should I wait?"

"No," she stated again.

"Should I come back with the forensic reports?"

"No!" again more adamant than she needed to be.

That tone sent him over to the dark side. "Should I get the hell out of your life?" he demanded to know.

Mac was not going to play another Rabb tantrum scene. "I'd settle for you getting out of my office," she flipped back at him.

"Look Mac ..."

"Harm – let it go," she didn't look at him. How much more was she supposed to take from that man?

He knew enough to know that Mac was not about to change her mind. "Fine … consider it and me gone."

He regretted that conversation the moment he left, but not enough to go back and straighten it out with her. Not that she would have wanted him to 'straighten it out'. That was how he justified going, rather justified not going back. It was his fault, well not all his fault - he was unwilling to take the blame on 100 percent, but since Mac was in danger, it was hard not to be guilty over ever missed step, and harsh word.

.

Chegwidden pulled him back to reality. "This man is a model soldier. Highly decorated. Commendations. The Congressional Medal of Honor and a purple heart - two. Ribbons up the yin yang – he is G.I. friggin' Joe."

"Yes sir."

"Was that going to be your defense?"

"Yes sir," they sat quietly for a moment. "Sir – I don't think that I can --."

"You will do as you are ordered to do commander."

"Sir, really I don't think I am that good an actor," Harm pressed.

"Well you better be, commander. He is the only link we have to Mac -."

"I know."

"You have developed a relationship with him. I am an unknown. We need to play this very carefully Rabb. He may trip up and give us what we need."

"Sir, with all due respect, if he is behind this then he will not 'trip up.'"

"Commander," he warned.

"Sir, as you said he is a model soldier. With normal tactics we will not get more than name, rank and serial number, and we have that."

"What is your suggestion?"

"Fifteen minutes alone with him?"

"A practical suggestion, commander, one that won't land us in the brig along side this guy."

"Sir, we have to do something drastic. The longer she is missing -," he did not finish his thought. Both men knew that the longer she was missing the more likely she was dead or getting further out of reach. "On the other hand, they may keep her alive so that she may be used as a bargaining chip for him."

"You better hope not."

"Sir?"

"We don't negotiate with kidnappers or terrorists – foreign or domestic."

"It won't be much of a negotiation. He either gives up Mac or he gives up breathing."

"Rabb, I brought you along because I knew there would be no way to keep you behind and out of trouble. But you need to listen to cooler heads now."

"Yours sir?"

"For one."

Inside the Brig at Quantico

The general was thrown against the wall but it did not wipe the superior smile off his face. The admiral was about toss him back across the room. Rabb held his commanding officer back.

"Let me go, commander. That's an order."

"Cooler heads, sir?"

The prisoner dusted himself off. "I am sorry Admiral, but I know nothing about the pretty lady."

At that the admiral pinned him roughly against the wall. "She is a colonel in the United States Marine Corps, _General_. Semper Fi? Show some respect! And if anything happens to her – you won't SURVIVE."

"Well, I hate to point this out admiral," he said. "But apparently something already has happened to her." AJ pushed his arm harder against his throat. "But I know nothing of this horrible tragedy," he squeaked out.

"You know a hell of a lot more than nothing," the admiral declared.

**0933 EST**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, VA**

Gunny was running the investigation at JAG with his usual take-no-prisoners attitude. He had pulled everyone off what they were doing to interview and collect all data from the past forty-eight hours; read through visitor logs and delivery receipts, contacted every person that had been there paying particularly close attention to the marines. It killed him to think one of his own could have been behind Mac's disappearance. He also forced him self to believe that until he had other information he had to think she was only missing and not dead, but as the hours wore on that hope was fading. Further, since they had not received a ransom note, there may be nothing to hang the hope on.

Harriet entered. "Sir, there is a package addressed to Commander Rabb on his chair," she said worriedly.

"No telling how long it has been there?"

"It could have been there all night."

He followed Harriet to Harm's office. On the chair was a package wrapped in brown paper with the words 'COMMANDER RABB' scrawled on it.

"Clear the building," he picked up the phone and dialed. "This is Gunnery Sergeant Galindez at JAG. I need a bomb squad over here immediately. We have found a suspicious package." He dialed again. "Commander, a package has been found on the chair in your office. . . . Brown paper, 1' x 1' x 1'. . . . Addressed to you. … No, no other markings … They are on their way. … Thirty minutes, yes sir … yes, sir."

**Time: Unknown**

**Location: Unknown**

Mac woke when she felt someone pulling her hood off. Her lip swollen and she had a bandage over her left eye. The side of her face was crusted with dried blood. Her vision was still very blurry and the room was very dark. A gentle hand lifted up her head, put her lips to a bottle. The young voice she almost recognized said, "Drink this," she could do nothing but comply and was treated to cool water. He only let her take small sips.

"Who are you?" she asked when she was able to talk.

"You don't want to know, ma'am," the reverence he gave her made her think that he was military and the tremble in his voice let her know that he was young – very young, probably not more than eighteen or twenty.

"You are a marine?" There was something that she recognized about him.

"Ma'am, please. Don't talk to me, or I will have to put the hood back on. I have brought you some food," he undid one of her hands and stepped out of reach. She found some fruit by her side, and a small piece of cheese. She reached her free hand up to her face and felt the bruise and the cut on the side of her head. She vaguely remembered being slammed up against a wall, and strong hands on her.

"Why are you doing this? You are going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

"Ma'am, I won't tell you again. Don't talk to me."

"I know you don't I?"

"Ma'am -," he relented. "Yes, ma'am. Rather you have seen me before."

"You work at JAG."

"No, ma'am."

"You are a guard at the gate," she said. "How can you do this to a fellow marine?"

The sound of a door slamming in a distant part of the building was heard, and the man slipped back out of the room. He didn't have time to retie her hand or cover her head with the hood.

Mac heard from the outer room: "What are you doing back so soon?" the young man asked.

"The message was delivered," he laughed. "And received. You should have seen their faces. They think it is a bomb … called the bomb squad." He laughed again. "They have no idea how 'explosive' it will be."

Mac tried to untie her other hand but was not able to. She heard them approach the door. She quickly put her plate on the other side, slipped the hood back on and placed her hand back in the position that it was when she was tied. The door opened.

"Is she still out?"

"Yes."

"Don't kill her yet, she's going to need to make a phone call," the door was closed but they were talking loud enough for Mac to hear.

"Do we need to kill her at all, MJ?"

"Don't go soft on me, Jack" he was frustrated. "You know we do."

"She can't identify us," he lied.

"All wars have casualties," he stated very matter-of-factly. "And if need be, every cause finds a martyr."

**1056 EST**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, VA**

The bomb squad was done evaluating the package when Harm and the admiral arrived. It was determined that there were no devices inside the box. Harm nodded for the sergeant to open it. Inside he found a women's marine jacket with ribbons and medals that were similar to Mac's. It was stained with blood, a lot of blood, around the collar. Harm held his breath. The bomb tech pulled a note out written on Mac's stationery. "Release General Fredrickson by 1700."

"They were here," the Gunny stated. "Inside this place. They just walked in right under our noses." Gunny felt responsible. He locked the building down. No one in or out. Everyone was a suspect.

Without another word, Harm retreated to his office. He spread out the files that he had and the ones that Webb had given the admiral. He set to work. The admiral stood in the doorway.

"Commander?"

"The answer is in here. It has to be. If Mac found it, then I can."

The admiral nodded. He felt the same way Rabb did. However, being a two star he had some favors to call in of his own.

**1323 EST**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, VA**

Brumby had shown up around 1200 and was held off by the Gunny. Renee however called

several more times and then the calls just stopped. Unbeknownst to Harm, Harriet called her and told her what she could, and said that she would keep Renee in the loop but that she really needed to let Harm work. Renee was humbled enough to heed Harriet's advice.

Harm had been working for hours. His uniform jacket was off, his tie was untied and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. He looked like a wreck, and no one bothered to mention that he was out of uniform. Jennifer Coates did what he would allow, as did Harriet, which was mostly retrieving files and confirming the findings that he had and trying to get him to eat. Sturgis had a whole other set of information that they were cross checking.

A young blonde marine knocked on Harm's door. Harm did not look up. He continued going from file to file and following links on the computer. He was reading through the files of the dead marines that were involved in the incident.

"Commander?" the timid man said. Harm did not respond. "Commander Rabb?"

"What is it?" he barked.

"The rest of the files you asked for. From Quantico?"

"Set them down over there," he waved to the credenza. The young man did as he was told, but kept one file in his hand. When Harm looked away to the monitor, the marine slipped the file on top of the ones near Harm.

"Is there anything else sir?"

"No, that will be all. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," he waited.

Harm realized he was standing there and gave him a quick side-glance. "Is there something you wanted?"

"No, sir. I mean yes sir," he stuttered. "I want to say that I am very sorry – Sorry about the Colonel. She is a very nice person – seems like a nice person."

Harm looked up at him. "How do you know the Colonel?"

"I have been stationed here at JAG for the last three months. She has always treated me with respect."

"She's a marine," he swallowed. "She treats everyone with respect," he was thinking that he should have treated her with more.

"Yes, sir."

"What is your name, corporal?"

"Goodman, sir. Jack Goodman."

"Do you know anything about the colonel's disappearance Corporal Goodman?"

"I have told what I can to the gunny, sir."

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I was on watch at the gate until midnight. I saw you leave and I noticed that the lights were still on in her office – this office."

"You know which office is hers from outside?"

"No sir, I mean yes sir. I mean I figured it out. It is the third window from the left."

"Go on."

"I was relieved at 2358, and the lights were still on. That's all."

"You noticed that the lights were still on?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"To be honest sir, I was talking to the guy who relieved me – Hanover, Corporal Hanover. He asked what was going on and I told him that the colonel was working late again."

"That's it?"

The corporal nodded and looked away.

"Are you sure?"

"Well sir, if you will excuse me – there is other talk."

"Other talk?"

"Just scuttlebutt, sir. I try not to get involved."

"What scuttlebutt"

"About the colonel, sir."

"The colonel?"

"Yes, sir and you – sir … and Commander Brumby."

Harm got very uncomfortable. "Nip it marine. Nip it now," he warned.

"Yes sir. I am sorry sir," he continued. "I'm sorry sir, I should have walked the floor. I should have made sure she was alright."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," the corporal nodded. "Thank you for the files, Corporal Goodman. Dismissed."

The corporal left. Harm leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. Yeah, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Yeah, he should have stayed until Mac left. They should be working the case together like they used to. They had always been able to work together, well not always but they at least trusted each other's opinion - at least enough to allow the other's help on a case. Now they were barely speaking and the NOTHING that happed between them was fodder for office scuttlebutt. What a joke. The whole thing between them was a ludicrous – that is why there were rules about serving with … . It didn't matter what she was, wasn't or could have been to him. The fact was he left her alone on this case and that could have gotten her killed. He promised himself that if she was returned safely, that he would never let it happen again. Never.

He pulled the next file off the stack. He read the name: LAWSON, MARK JAMES, SERGEANT. He opened the file on the desk and began to read. This one was more complete than the others. It was thicker, the documents looked like originals and there were photos. Harm took note of the difference, but did not really consider what it meant.

1415 EST D.C. Warehouse District

Corporal Jack Goodman pulled his car to the side of the road. He got out and paced. He was clearly very nervous, wringing his hands and biting his lip. He was mumbling to himself and shaking his head. Pacing back and forth – debating something – inside his head. In a total act of defiance, as much as his young years could muster he balled up his fist and slammed it into the side window of his car hard enough to break the window and more than likely his hand. He sunk to his knees and broke down in tears.

A second car drove up. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

"MJ, I can't do this," the young man continued to weep.

"Did you go back to JAG?" he demanded to know.

Young Jack shook his head weakly. "She has done nothing wrong. She was only doing her job."

MJ was disgusted. "I knew you didn't have the stomach for this," he scoffed. "That woman – that female – that LAWYER was going to send General Harris to jail for the rest of his life. Or worse."

"She was defending him," he protested. "She was going to keep him out of jail."

"Are you really that naïve?" he bellowed which made the young man wince. "She connected Fredrickson and Harris."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, yes we do. I was there when the CIA showed up." Goodman got wide eyed. "You bet your ass, brother. It won't take long before they put the rest of us together with General Harris. That's what I am counting on."

"You know they are never going to let General Harris go," there was no response. He stood up. "Let's go, MJ. Let's just leave. Leave now. Go away from here."

"Jack, I love you like a brother – hell you are my brother – but we are not going to quit now. We are going to send a message. White Blood for America is a force to be reckoned with. They will bring General Harris. Trust me. And the more of them we can take out – the better."

**1548 EST**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, VA**

Bud Roberts came bounding into the room with Gunny hard on his heels. "Commander, I have pictures."

"What? Pictures of what?"

"I have pictures of all the known associates of Harris."

"And that will help us how?"

"Well, if the person works here, or has been here, someone might recognize him."

Harm pulled the pictures away from Bud and started sifting through them. He stopped when he came to one. He looked at it long and hard for a moment. He turned the picture to Gunny. It was of Jack Goodman. "He was just here. Not 5 feet away from me. I just talked to him. He apologized and said that Mac was a nice person. He said he was on duty last night."

Gunny took the picture. Harm lay the rest of them down on his desk.

"Sir?" Bud asked. Harm kind of nodded but was watching Gunny. "Sir?" Bud said again.

"What is it Bud?"

"Well that man has a brother." Bud sifted through the pictures until he found the one he was looking for. Harm looked at it for a moment, and pulled the file for LAWSON, MARK JAMES, SERGEANT.

"He was here this morning," Gunny said. "Just before we found the box."

Harm's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. "Mac!!" he flipped the phone open. "Rabb," he said.

"Got someone that wants to say 'HI,' commander," said a deep male voice.

Mac's voice came weakly over the air, "Harm?"

"Mac! Are you alright?"

"Harm – don't do it. Whatever they want," Harm heard an open palm hitting skin and a weak cry out. Mac had been slapped and from the sound of it, pretty hard.

"Do exactly what I say, commander," the deep voice came back on the line. "Bring the General to Great Falls Park at 0700."

"I can't do that."

"You will – or your precious colonel will have a great fall herself."

The phone went dead. Harm picked up the picture and the file, handed it to Gunny. "Find him," he grabbed his coat and picked up his hat and started out of the office.

"Sir, where are you going?"

"I need to find the Admiral – and Webb," he stated. "Call me as soon as you know anything."

**1630 EST**

**D.C. Warehouse**

Mac was still trying to undo the rope that had her other hand tied. It was to no avail. The door opened and the young man walked in.

"Stop struggling, Colonel."

"You can't expect me to let you kill me."

"No, ma'am. I wouldn't," he flipped on the light. Mac could now see that he was the young marine in the guard shack. She knew him. His name was Goodman. "But you will not escape."

"I can still get you out of this, corporal. But if you kill me, you are as good as dead yourself."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sadly. "I am anyway."

"Will you help me to help you?"

"I can't ma'am."

She thought for a moment about how she was going to convince him to help her. She could tell that he was not a bad kid.

"I saw your Commander Rabb," Goodman offered.

"You saw the commander."

"Yes, ma'am. He seems very upset."

"Of course he would be, a fellow officer is being held against her will."

"I think it is more than that ma'am, and – no disrespect, I think you think so too."

"What is the plan – to trade me for the general?" she shook her head dismissing the Harm issue. "It won't happen."

"You better hope it does." His face was very sad. "Your Commander Rabb won't find you in time. He can't save you this time."

The corporal turned off the light slipped out of the room. Mac was left alone in the darkness. Thinking about how different things should have been. She tried to remember what she was so mad at Harm about. She should have been working the case with him. She shouldn't have shut him out. She shouldn't have shut him out of a lot of things.

2206 EST On the Road Back From Quantico

Harm had left the Admiral and Webb in charge of dealing with Fredrickson and getting to the park if he should fail. Harm's phone rang. He pulled it out quickly and checked the caller ID.

"What do you have, Gunny."

"I have an address sir, I am in route."

"Tell me."

"It is in the warehouse district of D.C." Gunny quickly followed with. "Wait for me to get there sir."

Harm did not hear it.

**2239 EST**

**D.C. Warehouse**

Shots were fired outside the warehouse. Lawson barreled through the door limping. He had been shot in the leg. Harm chased in after him. He ignored the pain and loss of blood from the gunshot wound to his left shoulder. Harm saw Lawson enter a room in the back and followed quickly. He held his gun at the ready.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" he ordered. The man did not stop, and opened the door to a smaller room beyond.

"Take another step Commander, I shoot and your precious colonel dies." Lawson had the gun in his left hand pointed into the room and the other trained on Harm.

Harm stopped. He could not see into the room; he had to believe that Mac was in there.

"Drop your weapon Lawson. There is no way out."

Lawson laughed. "There never was. Do you know what it means to die for a cause, commander?"

"It means you're dead."

Lawson fired at Harm. Harm fired twice at him. One missed and the other hit him in the abdomen. Lawson sank to the ground and fired two shots into the room in the direction of where the cot was.

"MAC!"

Harm fired two more shots. Lawson fell to the ground, dead.

He ran into the room, kicked the weapon away and struggled to find a light. There was a body on the bed facing the wall. The head was covered with a hood. Harm could barely see – not due to tears but to rage. He had gotten her killed. He tried to save her but he killed her. He killed her as much as if he had pulled the trigger himself.

"Mac?" he whispered softly. "Oh Mac."

Harm knelt next to the bed. There was no hope; she was dead. He rolled the body over; gently pulled off the hood. He needed to see her face. He needed to see her one more time.

What he saw didn't register. The head had blond hair and the face was of the young marine corporal who he had seen at JAG the day before – Goodman, Jack Goodman. He sat back on his heels. It didn't make sense. Where was Mac?

"Commander!!" Gunny's voice was bellowing through the warehouse. "Commander Rabb!" He walked into the small room and found Harm sitting on the floor between the two dead marines. "Commander?"

"She's not here," he didn't look up. "She's not here," he repeated.

"Commander – the colonel is OK."

"She's not here?" he repeated.

"The colonel is fine. She's been found. Rather she found us. She walked into Bethesda hospital about fifteen minutes ago. She is alive and well."

"I don't understand," he was confused.

"I don't know all the facts either -." Gunny realized that the blood on Harm was from a wound. "Sir, you've been shot."

"What?" The loss of blood was making Harm dizzy. "Mac is alright?"

"Yes, sir. She is in the hospital. Which is exactly where we are going," he pulled the commander to a standing position and led him out.

**0130 EST**

Walter Reed Hospital

Harm's wound was a clean shot. It had gone through and did the least amount of damage that can be done by a bullet. The doctor was just finishing up when the admiral entered.

"Good work, Rabb."

"Not really, sir."

"Well, the colonel is fine. They will keep her over night or a couple of days at Bethesda for observation and the two people responsible are dead, and the general will go on trial and answer for all of it."

"I am still not clear how Mac got here."

"Well strictly speaking Rabb, she is down the street. Corporal Goodman dropped her off about a mile away from the hospital in Maryland."

"Goodman? He was the kid in the room, the one that Lawson shot."

"Lawson may have shot him, but the corporal was already dead. He had overdosed on whatever they were giving Mac. He also left Mac with a full confession in writing naming names and places."

Harm shook his head.

"It is over commander. Go home and get some rest. Take tomorrow off. I think everyone at JAG can use a day to recover."

"Yes, sir."

"Before you do that, the NCIS would like to speak with you?"

"Yes sir."

**0318 EST**

Bethesda Naval Hospital

Harm got off the elevator and walked by the nurse's station on his way to Mac's room. He had been interrogated for the last hour by NCIS and wasn't in any mood to be denied.

"Sir! Sir!" the nurse called to him. "I'm sorry, commander. It is after visiting hours."

"I won't stay long."

"Sir, I'm sorry," she noticed he had his own bandages and a hospital bracelet; she relented. "You are here to see?"

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

"She is asleep."

"I won't wake her."

He had no idea what he was going to say to her anyway. All he really wanted to do was see for him self that she was OK. The nurse nodded. He entered her room quietly. She was indeed asleep. The light from the hall fell across her still beautiful but cut and bruised face. He stepped up to the bed, brushed a non-existent stray strand of hair away, leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. She stirred a little. He took a long look at her, smiled sadly. The door opened and Brumby was silhouetted in the light from the hall. Harm nodded to him acknowledging his place there with Mac and excused himself from the room.

**1515 EST**

**North of Union Station**

**Two Days Later**

Harm was packing a sea bag when a knock came to the door.

"It's open," he called.

Mac opened the door and let herself in. He glanced over his shoulder and a shooting pain caused him to wince.

"Harm?" Mac noticed the wince and was freshly reminded about the bullet he took trying to save her.

"Mac, what are you doing out of the hospital?" he said without stopping what he was doing.

"No reason to keep me in," she said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sure the admiral told you." He couldn't look at her. Every bruise and cut reminded him of how he had failed her.

"I want to hear it from you," she eased herself down on the bed. She was still not quite herself.

"Italy … TAD," he said. "I'll be back in a couple of months."

"Why?"

"The admiral needed a fill in for Commander McCarthy so … I am going to try my hand on the Italian front for a while. The admiral wants someone he can trust over there."

"And he chose you," she tried to joke.

"I asked for it," he maintained.

"What about Fredrickson?"

"We were pulled from that case, something about personal involvement clouding our ability to give him a proper defense," he gave her a glancing smile.

"Don't you think Mattoni will need your testimony?"

"Mattoni has been pulled too – going to a whole different venue."

She reached over and caught his arm stopping him from continuing his packing. "Why are you doing this, Harm?"

Feeling her touch sent a jolt through him and caused him to look directly at her for a brief moment until the bruise over cheek registered again. He slipped her arm away and continued packing. "What do you want me to say Mac?"

"None of that was your fault," she told him.

"I am taking a TAD, Mac," he dismissed. "We both have done it a hundred times."

"Not a TAD for a couple of months."

"Might be longer," he added.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Is it really nothing more than that?" she asked.

Harm did not respond. How could he tell her what he was feeling; he wasn't sure himself.

"What about Renee?" she pressed.

"We broke up," he said quickly.

"Oh," she didn't expect that. "Why?"

"You know ---," he stopped himself. "It's too late now anyway. Doesn't matter anymore."

"What is too late?" she stepped closer to him. "What doesn't matter?" She touched him arm again to get him to look in her eye.

He so wanted to kiss her. She was so close it wouldn't have taken much to pull her into his arms and kiss her. "I'll be back in a couple of months," he said again. "In time for your wedding I imagine." That right there was all Harm was going to say about the REAL reason he wanted the assignment.

"I have no wedding plans," she said with a lot more meaning than the words alone.

Harm put his hand on top of hers for a moment.

"How many times can two people … say 'good bye'?" she asked.

"How about 'see you later'," he looked sad. "It is only temporary," he lied.

They both knew it wasn't temporary. They knew that nothing would be the same if they ever saw each other again. Time and distance would fade the deeper feelings. The hurt and imagined injustices would color the reality of what was. They would dissolve into mere acquaintances and think of each other as ships that passed in the night if they thought of each other at all. It was too late to change anything.

"See you later, Harm," she squeaked out fighting back her tears.

He put his arms around her hugging her very tightly. She pulled back slightly and pressed her lips against his. He didn't stop himself from deepened the kiss; she took it a step farther. As unexpectedly as it started, it ended. Their eyes locked for a long moment; both were breathless and weak kneed. He could not read her expression but wanted to kiss her again. She hoped he would but was confused. She looked down. He mumbled some version of an apology and let her go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Two**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.

**0315**

**MacKenzie Residence**

**Georgetown, VA**

Mac was startled back to consciousness by what could best be described as the Thunder-from-Down-Under. Mic Brumby crashed into the bedroom, snapped on the light and threw his bag against the closet.

"Hope I didn't wake you, luv," he slurred loudly enough to wake the neighbors.

"No," she stated annoyed by his display. She hadn't actually been asleep but she was in very deep thought and it was enough to keep her from knowing she wasn't sleeping again for the seventh … or was it fifteenth night in a row.

He fell against the closet and then slid down to the floor. He was pulling out her shoes and tossing them across the room. He was probably looking for something of his that he had left, but she had already purged her bedroom of Brumby.

"Where are you going?" she really didn't care, but thought she had to ask.

"Home baby … back to my life … I'm getting the hell out of this god forsaken country."

She just nodded. He was so dramatic; so over the top with everything he did. It was hard to take him seriously about ANYTHING. He lived in the extremes, made snap decisions that almost always were wrong and made recovering decisions just as quickly that were just as wrong. She had to wonder if he ever stopped long enough to listen to himself or anyone else; ask himself a real question or learn from his mistakes.

"Where the HELL are my …"

"In the hall closet." She got out of bed and exited to the living room. This was the last scene she would play with him.

In the five months he had been living in the US there were many scenes played: scenes about his moving in, scenes about setting a date, scenes about his first, second and third corporate job, a scene for each time he lost one, scenes about her work load, her career, her delusion that the Marines was a proper career for a woman, scenes about moving to Los Angeles, New York or San Francisco to change their lifestyle, and scenes about his drinking and her not. There were very few love scenes, and even fewer scenes when they actually had fun. And then there were some ridiculous scenes about Rabb, his rapid departure and his not coming back. It was after one particularly ridiculous Rabb scene about 15 days prior when Mac decided that she was going to play her final scene with Mr. Michael "Mic" Brumby. Her dialogue was clear and to the point and delivered well. Mac wanted no part of Mic and their relationship was over. His dialogue was not so clear, delivered with a great deal more smirky sarcasm then required and centered on an imagined relationship between Mac and Harm. Apparently – over two weeks later – would be the FINAL final scene.

He stumbled into the living room and noticed that she had a box packed for him. "And my ring?" he said nastily.

Mac hadn't come up with a plan as to what to do with the ring. She wasn't sure if it were appropriate to give it back or if it were rude to offer. She wasn't ever going to wear it again – right or left hand – but she didn't want to insult him anymore by giving it back. If he asked, she was fully prepared to part with it. She retrieved it from the bedroom without a word and placed it in the box with the rest of the things he had left at her house (marking his territory). She opened the door to encourage his hasty exit.

"Good bye, Mic."

"Sarah …" he picked up the box. "We could have had a great life together."

"Take care of yourself, Mic." She would call him in a couple of days or weeks when he was sober and back home and they could do a proper closure on their relationship. Or maybe she would write a letter. Or maybe she wouldn't.

"Always do." He couldn't resist one more shot. "Say hello to Rabb for me."

With that he was gone and Mac actually felt a great weight lift and she was tired; really, really tired. When her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

**1015 ZULU**

**Somewhere over the Mediterranean**

She felt her stomach tighten as the plane made its final descent into Naples Airport. In less than three hours she would be working with Harm again – well actually she would be opposing counsel, but they would have to speak. He wasn't expecting her. He was expecting Kate Pike. What were the odds he wouldn't notice?

It was a minor case of fraternization – relatively minor - but the person being accused was a senator's son so there was some impetus for handling it quickly, quietly, preferably outside of the Washington Beltway. Harm was local and had done the Article 32; he would prosecuting. It was Kate's turn for the TAD and had been given the orders but just as she was leaving the admiral overheard some offhand reMarc she made about _**going up against**_ Harm again. The admiral knew of the history between Pike and Rabb and unceremoniously pulled her from the case. The last thing the Admiral wanted was his lawyers adding fuel to the fraternization fire and Kate was nothing if not a can of gasoline. Rabb and MacKenzie were nothing if not _duty first_ - to a fault at times.

In her head Mac knew that seeing Harm again was not going to be bad. He was a colleague, a friend; he would be professional, but apparently the butterflies in her stomach hadn't gotten the memo. On the other hand Kate had probably already called and they had a good laugh at their missed opportunity. Kate would have undoubtedly made some suggestive reMarc about Mac taking her place which could have sent Harm into any number of directions. She had no idea what she was walking into.

It had been four months since Harm left, four months since their last conversation in his apartment which said less than it should have; four months of interpretation, reading into and revisionist history. Four months since _**that kiss**_. That kiss would often wake her from a restless sleep. That kiss distracted her waking hours too. That kiss made her appreciate what she had and what she wanted. After four months the memory should have begun to fade but it was as clear in her mind as it had been that night; of course there was a possibility that she had total romanticized the memory – blown it completely out of proportion. She wondered if Harm even remembered it. She wondered if he remembered it or her at all.

Since he left there were one or two emails, but nothing news or noteworthy. Mac had completely thrown herself into her work. (That was Brumby's biggest complaint second only to her unwillingness to commit emotionally or physically to a relationship which he blamed on the MIA Rabb.) Mac was different after Harm left. She was on top of her game professionally as senior counsel at JAG. She was the admiral's second and she got all the prime cases. The only down side to come as a result of Harm's leaving – Mac would argue – was that the Admiral had replaced him with Lt. Commander Caitlin Pike. Kate was a fine attorney (on her good days) and was a force to be reckoned with in court on any day. Mac and she had worked several cases together and a few as opposing counsel. Mac had developed a great respect for Kate professionally. Personally they would never be friends, and that was Mac's decision. Kate had tried, in the beginning, but found that Mac was just too reserved, too controlled for her tastes. Still it was Mac who backed away. She had good reason. Kate – as always – was on the far side of inappropriate. The most recent example was the prep for the case in Italy. They got into a discussion about men which of course naturally led Brumby and then to Harm.

"_So what happened with you and Mic?" Kate intruded._

"_Didn't work out."_

"_Cause of Harm?"_

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Don't tell me you are going to deny it."_

"_There is nothing to deny. There was never anything between ---"_

"_You and Harm? Right … So he asked to be reassigned to Naples 'cause it was a good career move? Please Mac, I am a lot of things, naive is not one of them."_

"_It had nothing to do with me."_

"_Of course not." _

"_Why do you always to that? Why do you act like you know something when you really have no clue what is going on? It works in the court room but it's really annoying outside."_

"_So you are telling me you had the perfect man under your nose and were never tempted?" _

"_I would hardly call Harm the PERFECT man."_

"_Maybe not, but what he doesn't have more than makes up for the difference."_

"_I wouldn't know."_

"_Why not? Not interested?"_

"_Or he was not interested in me."_

"_Never known Harm to turn down anyone."_

_Mac looked away. _

"_I have never known Harm to run away from anything or anyONE either."_

"_So it is possible that you don't know Harm."_

"_Possible, but not likely. He left for a reason."_

"_It had nothing to do with me."_

"_Or it had everything to do with you." _

_Mac said nothing._

"_He must be in love with you."_

"_What?"_

"_Men do desperate things when they are in love." _

There was more to the conversation but those words hung in Mac's ears. 'Men do desperate things when they are in love.' Was that true? Could Harm have really been in love with her? Why did he never say anything, why did he kiss her like that, why did he let her go? Why did he turn her down in Sydney? He did say that he wasn't ready. It wasn't a NO, perse. Did she drive him away? What was her real reason for accepting Mic's ring? Was it to sooth a bruised ego, or was it because Mic was offering something she never believed anyone ever would, or was it to get back at Harm? When Mic arrived in Washington, why did she let him stay? She had decided that there wasn't enough between them to keep a long distance relationship going and would have ended it when she got around to it. Instead she let him stay, and then Harm was gone. Was it really her fault? Is that why Harm left? Could he really have been in love with her and she drove him away? Most importantly, what did he feel now? How would he react to seeing her again?

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend like Italy was just another temporary duty assignment. No big deal. She would be safe at home in less than a week.

**1335 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Mac arrived on base and was directed to the JAG offices. She was about to enter when she heard a commotion from around the side of the building. It wasn't really a commotion it was more like raised male voices lightheartedly arguing. She thought she recognized one of them. She walked around the corner of the building and saw two shirtless men playing basketball. She recognized Harm immediately.

Harm looked good, better than good; he looked great. He was fit, tan, bright-eyed and enjoying the game very much. Mac felt her heart leap into her throat. Every feeling, every emotion, every physical desire she ever had for him was immediately front and center. She hadn't realized how much she really missed seeing him and for the first time the louder voices in her head did not shout down how much she wanted him.

Mac had never liked men like Harm: over confident, arrogant, cocky, and self-absorbed; using his looks to open doors. When she first met Harm she had believed that he was a lady's man, a charmer, the kind of guy that would feed a woman a line just to get her into bed; the kind of guy that used woman as toys or trophies; a misogynist. As she got to know him, she saw that he was not like that at all. Yes he was cocky and arrogant but he also had skills and abilities that backed up his arrogance. Harm liked women; that was true, and that toothy grin used judiciously was very charming even on her, but he also respected women (by and large) and treated them well as he could. Jordan, Renee and others would have to admit that he never lied to them. They may have wanted more than he was willing to give, but he never led them on. Wasn't that Mac's issue? She wanted something from him and he wasn't prepared to give it. Other men would have taken advantage of the literal meaning behind her "is that how long we are going to wait" and played dumb the next morning and skated out with 'it was your idea'. Harm did not do that. And how did she repay his honesty? She turned to another man.

The other man – the Adonis - playing with Harm did not go unnoticed. He was shorter than Harm by at least four inches – perfect for Mac. His body looked like it was lovingly sculpted out of fine Italian marble. He was solid and thick like a football player or a boxer but he moved like a dancer. He was very dark (eyes and skin) but his hair looked like spun gold under the Italian sun. He kept a running commentary going of the game designed to annoy and distract his opponent, and he was doing it quite well. Mac knew in an instant that he was one of those men that lied to get what he wanted; lied to men, lied to women, he probably lied to his mother – but it was all done with such charm and charisma that he got away with it. Mac would normally have dismissed him without a second thought, but it was hard not to appreciate his … form, style and grace.

"Mac?"

"Kate Pike couldn't make it," she explained quickly embarrassed by her thoughts.

Then Adonis turned his attention to Mac. His voice became rich and deep like espresso and had a thick Italian accent. "Who is this vision I see before me?"

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie," Harm announced. Mac couldn't tell if he was happy to see her. "Mac, this is --."

"Marcello Genovese – at your service," he took her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly.

"He is Commander Marcus Jackson, Mac," Harm clapped him on the shoulder. "And he is from New Jersey – Trenton, or was it Newark, Marc?"

"I am Italian on my mother's side," he protested. "There is Italian blood pumping in my heart."

"More like marinara sauce," Harm played with his friend.

Marcello smiled and let her hand go. "You never told me of such a beauty at JAG HQ, Rabb. You wish to keep her all to yourself, no?" Harm looked at Mac. "I think yes." Marcello continued. "No matter. You had your chance," he smiled at Mac again.

Harm shoved the ball into his chest. "Hit the showers, Don Juan. Make it a cold one."

"Until we meet again," he kissed her hand again. "Parting is such sweet sorrow -,"

"GO!" Harm ordered and Marc trotted off. Mac was stunned. "You can close your mouth now Colonel," Harm whispered in her ear.

She shook her head. "Who was that?"

"That is your co-counsel."

"You're serious?"

"I am," Harm laughed. "Don't let the fake Italian charm and those GQ looks fool you; he is an excellent attorney."

"I'll bet he is excellent at everything he does," she murmured to herself.

"Well, he'll need to be since you won't be able to keep your mind on the case."

"Hey!" She turned to look at him to see if he was really slighting her, if he was jealous or if he was just playing. The light in his eyes and the smile on his face said he was just playing. There was a part of her that wished he were just a little jealous, but she quickly stowed those thoughts.

"It is good to see you, Mac," he continued unphased. "Why didn't you call me and tell me you were coming? I would have picked you up at the airport – I suppose I could have sent _Marcello_."

"Orders came in pretty quickly."

"What happened to Kate … thought she would be defending."

"Admiral changed his mind," Mac explained without getting into all the details.

"I can see that," he didn't smile and Mac couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Hey, I gotta hit the showers myself. Go on in and talk to Petty Officer Lawry. She will show you your office, give you all the files and tell you how you can get in touch with your client. We'll be there in 15."

"Harm, I--."

Harm noticed that she still had her bag with her. "You haven't booked into base housing yet? You are in a hurry to get this case started. I hope you gave yourself enough time to have a little fun while you are here. Not all business I hope," Harm was either over compensating or he was being really nice. "Lawry will tell you where all that is too. She is expecting you – well expecting Kate," he checked his watch. "Let's meet in the office at say 1700, we can go over the case and then grab some dinner – catch up," she nodded absentmindedly and he started to jog off. "Hey, by the way counselor – this is not an open and shut, simple fraternization case. I have filed sexual harassment charges against the Lieutenant. You will have your work cut out for you, Colonel," he playfully saluted her and jogged away.

Mac was dizzy. What the hell just happened? She met a man who could only be described at an 18+ on a ten-point scale; he was her co-counsel and seemed as taken with her as she was with him. Her case had gone from an exercise to a full-blown defense and she hadn't even met the defendant yet. And Harm – well as for Harm she had no idea what was going on with him. It was like they had never stopped being friends – just friends. She still had no idea what to expect.

**1530 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Mac walked into the main room after she had secured her quarters with base housing. She was directed to her office and provided with everything that she needed. She was told that Harm's office was at the end of the hall right across from Marcus'. She made herself comfortable, checked her files and decided that she needed to check in with Harm about the case at least. Outside his office, she heard him on the phone.

"Yes, Mac arrived fine. You should have told me she was coming instead of you … Well, I would have picked a different co-counsel. Jackson has this bizarre effect on women. He makes them forget that there is work to do, hell most of the time they can't remember their own name. I was dying to see you take him down a peg or two … I am not worried about Mac … I am sure she can … No … Don't be ridiculous … What possible difference could it make to me? … Good bye Kate … Good bye … If I had wanted a lecture I would have signed up for your class on –," he laughed. "Right, talk to you later. Ciao," he hung up.

Mac knocked and waited.

"Enter," he looked up into her eyes. His smile, as always was infectious. "All settled in?" he asked getting up from his chair.

"I am."

"Looking good MacKenzie," he came around the desk and gave her a quick hug.

"You too, Commander," she returned it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He stepped back and sat on the edge of his desk, and scanned her up and down. "Kate tells me that you are in triathlon training."

"Also true," she owed. "Well just this past week or two."

"Heard about Mic … should I say that I am sorry?"

"Are you?"

He shook his head slowly. "Never thought he was … right for you."

"Well, it looks like we have finally found something we can agree upon."

It looked like Harm took that comment as a slight against him but he recovered quickly. "Well, _Marcello_ is a long distance runner and champion cyclist, I am sure he can keep you up on your regimen. Wouldn't go swimming around here though."

Harm was being so – unlike himself, Mac found it hard to respond.

"Marcello?" Who had walked in at the sound of his name. "Are you telling this lovely lady lies about me?'

"Not at all," Mac turned to face him grateful for the distraction. "Harm was just telling me that you are a runner and a cyclist."

"I have run circles around Rabb in and out of the court room – to which are you referring?"

"Ha," Rabb scoffed. "First year law – that's his speed."

"We'll need to go running while I am here," she continued.

"I am a sunrise runner, Colonel," he warned with a sly smile.

His smile was disarming. "Please call me Mac."

"Mac? Such an ugly man's name for such a beautiful lady."

"My given name is Sarah."

"I will call you mia bella donna – it means my beautiful lady," he picked her hand up again and kissed it.

"Please," Harm interrupted. "Save the Roman Holiday scene for some other time. You two have your work cut out for you."

"You filed sexual harassment charges against Lieutenant Dobbs?" Mac turned her attention back to Harm.

The three discussed the case. Marcello instantly became Marcus Jackson. It was funny to hear the New Jersey twang coming from a man who moments before was dripping Italian charm. Mac actually liked Marcus better than Marcello. He was smart, funny and had a way about him that pulled more information than the other person was willing to give. In this particular case, Harm was giving and they were receiving since that was the purpose of the meeting - discovery. Harm – as per usual – never said more than he had to.

The case involved Lieutenant Commander Lawrence "Larry" Dobbs Jr., son of US Senator Lawrence Dobbs, Sr and Sharon Stillwell Dobbs the ambassador to Uruguay. The Stillwells were a very influential family – very rich and very politically plugged in. Larry was a training officer on the USS Coral Sea. His primary responsibility was the physical fitness of the crew. It appeared that he took his job a little too seriously with many of the female crew. He maintained that all the relationships he had on board ship were concentual, but one woman came forward to file sexual harassment charges and five others were willing to testify. At that Rabb was done. He handed over all the files he was supposed to and dismissed them to create their own strategy.

On the way out, he called to Mac. "Mac, need to push dinner back a couple of hours. There are a couple of things I need to take care of here – other cases."

"That's fine, I am sure I can find something to keep myself occupied," she was referring to reading the files, but Marcus did not miss his opportunity.

"Rabb, let me take the colonel to dinner, and you can join us later for coffee."

"That's not up to me, Marcus," Harm said nodding to Mac.

He quickly dropped back into his Marcello mode. "Sarah, mia bella donna, join me this evening for a romantic diner alfresco, under the stars – a little wine, a little pasta and music to set your heart soaring."

Mac looked back at Harm. "Go ahead Mac," he shrugged. "You'll be here for a couple of days; we can catch up another time."

She realized that she was nervous about spending time alone with Harm and was a little hurt that he would so quickly and easily give her an out. He was probably not looking forward to spending time alone with her either. "On one condition," she warned.

"Anything for you, mi bella donna."

"You drop this Marcello act," she smiled at him with a quick glance at Harm she added. "I feel like I am in a movie of the week on Lifetime."

"Consider it dropped, Colonel."

"We'll see you later for coffee?" Mac asked. Harm nodded.

Mac wondered if she should have accepted so easily. Wasn't one of the things that Harm accused her of was going with anyone that asked. Well it wasn't like that this time. It was only dinner, and she would make it a working dinner. Isn't that how it started with Brumby?

.

Harm watched Mac slip out of his office. He slumped back into his chair. The hardest part was going to maintain this act he was keeping up. Marc might be just the ticket. He had thought he had gotten past her in the months he spent away. But it started again when he heard that Brumby and she were not working out and came back full force when he saw her again. It was only for a few days, a week at the most. He could maintain a professional friendship for that long, couldn't he?

**0918 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Three Days Later

The next few days passed quickly. She rarely saw Harm (no lunch, no dinner, no joining for coffee). The only time they had actually said more than two full sentences in each other presence was at the hearing in front of the judge. In light of the new charges a continuance was asked for and granted – three days. It only took twelve hours before the admiral got wind of the new charges and twenty before the call came in from the Senator. Mac had to do some pretty fancy footwork to keep the senator from flying to Italy and she was convinced she succeeded. Her argument was that it would only bring media attention to something that should be very low profile.

The senator was belligerently intrusive about her defense. He wanted to know what tactics and strategy she was going to use to keep the Lieutenant from losing his reputation and maintaining his career in the Navy; keeping in mind that the Lieutenant had a promising political career to think about when his time in the Navy was up. Honestly all Mac thought she could do was keep him out of jail. She had finally had enough of the senator when he suggested smearing the reputation of the woman who filed charges. Shortly after that conversation, she got another call from the admiral. "Make it go away" was his only concern and he did not care if the Lieutenant stayed in the Navy or not. Marcus was oblivious to the whole political aspect; which meant she had to deal with that on her own. What she didn't know was that Harm was getting the same calls and was feeling the same political pressures that she was.

The reason Harm and Mac did not spend any time together was mostly circumstance. In the three days she had been there, Marcus would not give her a moment to herself. He had her days and nights pretty booked up. He was a great help legally and had some great insights and strategies that she was sure Harm would not prepare for. There were a number of witnesses to interview and some other investigating to be done onboard ship. There was something strange about the case, about the woman making the charges and about Dobbs himself. She knew it but had no basis for her feelings. Marcus was not impressed with Mac's gut feelings. He was a bit of a facts man when he was working, which was as short a time as possible.

The commander had a lust for life that Mac could barely keep up with. When they weren't working they were eating, running, singing and dancing. He was showing her his Italy. It was like he was born there. They had a lot of fun. But fun was all it was for Marcus and Mac was fine with that too. Why? Well for Mac the biggest down side was professional. Marcus had a complete and total disregard for the politics involved and that made her feel very alone. Marcus had no career aspirations and Mac was full of them. For Marcus, he had an issue with her not drinking. He loved the Italian grape and felt that to truly appreciate the food, the music, the weather, the air in Italy; that one needed to appreciate the wine. He understood Mac's reason for not drinking; it just made him feel very uncomfortable and that telegraphed to Mac. If anything were to develop between them it would become an issue. Mac didn't expect anything to develop.

Court was the next day and Mac was working alone in her office finalizing some thoughts. A knock came on her door. "Come," she replied not looking up.

"So how goes it, counselor?" Harm's gentle voice cut through her concentration like a razor.

"It goes," she looked up at him and smiled.

"I said that this one was not going to be easy – for you."

"Well a great lawyer once told me to never let the facts ruin a good defense," she smiled easily.

"Ha," he came in and sat down. "So you have a defense?"

"I'll be ready."

"I have every confidence in you, Mac," he smiled. "But when you want to make a deal, I am ready to listen."

"You are ready to make a deal? Your case must have some gaping holes in it."

"It's as solid as they come. However there is no point in dragging it out, more chance for the papers to get their hands on the story. This is an election year. How do you think the voters will respond to a senator whose son is using his time in the service to -- "

"Make friends?"

He laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of influence women."

"I'll discuss it with my client," she dismissed but relieved that Harm understood the political time bomb they were charged with disarming.

"Before the trial starts, Mac. After that – no holds barred."

"Some things never change with you."

"And some things do," he didn't smile at that. He looked sad. There was an awkward moment where neither of them knew what to say next. Finally Harm spoke. "There is a reception tonight at the embassy."

"Yes, I know."

"So, I can assume that Marcus has already asked you?"

"You can assume that if you like," she played the 'hard-to-get girl' card which had never worked with Harm before.

There was a lilt in her voice that dragged him in. "Has he?"

"Yes."

"So I will see you there then," he got up to leave.

"Well that depends," she leaned back in her chair.

"On what?"

"On whether or not I accept Mark's invitation," she smiled coyly. Marcus had asked and Mac had actually tried to get out of it. She really didn't want to go and she had had enough of Marcus Jackson for three days. She needed a night off from him at least.

"Holding out for a better offer?"

"It has been known to happen." Mac had no idea where that came from, she really wasn't expecting Harm to ask nor did she have any desire to that he should.

Harm leaned against the doorframe. "That is risky, Colonel. You could wind up sitting home alone."

"Not the first time."

He stood up and lengthened his spine to his full height. He placed his hands behind his back. "Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, would you allow me the honor of escorting you to the embassy reception this evening?"

Without missing a beat, "Thank you Commander, it would be my pleasure," she smiled a soft loving smile that he had forgotten how much he missed.

He smiled back. "It's formal, you know."

"Don't worry commander; I can wear more than marine greens."

"I remember."

Both came away from the tête-à-tête with a number of confused feelings. He really wasn't prepared to ask her nor did he think she would accept. It opened a door on something he thought was completely closed. For Mac, she was nervous. The night would play out as it would, but she had a lot to do with how. All she had to figure out what how she wanted the evening to go; should it be an end, a beginning or just a middle that take them up a level – or two.

**1959 ZULU**

**US Naval Base - Naples Italy**

**Guest Officer's Quarters**

Harm was early. He got home and dressed in record time and didn't know where else to go. He didn't know why, but he was nervous. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't a date; it was an obligatory evening with a visiting colleague. If it had been Kate instead of Mac, he still would have gone. But if it had been Kate Pike, he would not have been dressed early and his palms wouldn't be sweating.

He knocked on her door and waited. He looked down at the gardenia he had in his hand that he could not stop himself from buying. He was just about to toss it away, when Mac opened the door quickly. She was dressed (or very nearly) in a rich dark cranberry silk that draped off her shoulders in such a way as to leave slightly more than just enough to the imagination. She was thinner and toner than he remembered. She needed no jewelry but wore a diamond solitaire at her throat; which only served to distract the eye from what was below (probably her reason for wearing it).

"Come in, I'm sorry, I'm running a little late," she said casually and stepped back into the bathroom - for what reason Harm had no idea. If she were any other woman, he would have thought that she was flirting with him – dragging this dressing process out. If he were any other man he would have enjoyed the game. And if these were any other people in any other place or time, they would not make the reception. But they were who they were, and they would make the reception.

Mac made the first overt move to let Harm know the direction she wanted the evening to go. She reentered from the bathroom and turned her back to him quickly. The rustle of the dress and the smooth of her skin and the perfume combined for a nearly deadly combination. Harm stood firm. The back of her dress was completely open. Only a blind man would not know that she was wearing nothing but the dress, heels and a smile. There were four buttons that needed fastening. "Do you mind? I can't reach," she said casually like they had been doing this kind of thing for years; an old married couple. Being the gentleman he was; he did the buttons and kept his hands and his amorous thoughts to himself – which is not to say he didn't entertain them.

"It's a hell of a dress, Colonel," he stated. "And you wear it well."

"This old thing?" She turned back to him and struck a momentary pose. "Just something I threw in the suitcase cause it took up very little space," she stepped across the room to get her matching bag. Man, she was cool as a cucumber. The movement was choreographed in such a way as to display the slit up the side of the cranberry rag revealing a cranberry spike sling-back adorning a very shapely leg. She knew she looked HOT and she was satisfied with the response she was getting. She had all night to work it and knowing Harm, it may take her all night to wear him down – not that that was her plan necessarily.

"You bought it today," he challenged.

"Less than an hour ago," she admitted.

"Well done, Sarah," Harm was pleased that she hadn't gotten it for Marcus.

"You clean up pretty well yourself," he of course was in his formal whites with all ribbons, medals and insignias cleaned and polished for the occasion.

He handed her the gardenia and leaned in to kiss her cheek. They each turned at the last second. Their lips met and lingered for a second longer than they should have for colleagues, but a lot shorter than their desire.

"Shall we go?" Harm said, holding his arm out for her to take. He needed some air or to loosen the tie he just spent 20 minutes perfecting.

**2045 ZULU**

**American Embassy**

**Naples Italy**

Harm was acting the perfect gentleman and escort. The evening had taken a turn. It was no longer obligatory evening with an out of town colleague, but he had yet to figure out what it actually was. He introduced Mac to everyone and was highly complimentary about her skills and abilities. It amazed Mac how many women were there and for all intents and purposes had their caps set at catching him. The old Harm who loved to flirt with anything that flirted with him was gone. He was polite to these women, but clearly Mac was his only interest - much to their chagrin. Mac had to admit she loved the attention. Harm had never played "the date" with her in the past, he had always found a way to let her know not to get her hopes up, that he was her friend and that was all. But that night, she would have been a fool not to think that things were different.

Marcus arrived with the Italian naval liaison. Her name was Adriana Marlenetti and she looked like she was born to be at these types of occasions. Mac didn't like her. She was a player, a woman without any real substance. She was an information gatherer and loved the power that came with that. What Mac noticed quickly was Harm's familiar distance with this woman. Clearly he had known her for some time, maybe even before he got the assignment in Naples. But Mac saw Harm handle her the way he handled many of the women who wanted something from him that he was not prepared to give; including her self.

The four were talking when Adriana spied something out of the corner of her eye. The ambassador's wife was headed their way. Both Harm and Marcus wished they could fade into the wallpaper, but it was too late. The ambassador's wife was a loud, garish, fifty-something woman who loved to have young, handsome men around her. She excused the men from the ladies so that she could introduce them to some friends of hers from America. This left Mac and Adriana alone.

"She is amazing," Adriana started. "I have never met a women who needed more men around her."

"I guess it's her prerogative," Mac explained. "It's her party."

"So, Colonel - ."

"Please, call me Mac."

"Mac – how charming. A beautiful woman with a man's name – so American," she smiled. "Well, Mac. I understand that you and Harm worked together for many years."

"We did."

"And are very good friends," she continued.

Mac nodded slightly.

"No more than friends?"

Mac motioned a "no" buy was not happy with the question.

Adriana didn't believe her. "Tell me – as his friend, has anyone ever been able to get through his armor."

"His armor?"

"Your commander guards himself like the Fort Knox – is that right?"

"I am not sure."

Adriana's eyes went back to Harm across the room. "Tell me - does he have a lover back home? Unrequited perhaps?"

"I really couldn't say."

"I am sure you can, you won't."

Mac did not respond.

"So you won't tell me what you know."

Mac decided to take the direct approach. "I am not comfortable discussing the details of what I know about the commander's life; it would abuse our friendship," her discomfort was written all over her face. "If you want to know something about him, you will need to ask him yourself," she wanted OUT of this conversation.

Adriana was unphased by her attitude. "I have a theory that he is in Italy healing a broken heart."

Mac looked away.

"Yes, Commander Harmon Rabb … JUNIOR … the last of the one-woman men. Alone in Italy by his choice. His heart has been broken. He is here licking his wounds – as you say."

"You and I have a very different impression of him," Mac couldn't help but consider her theory.

"Perhaps you are that lover," Adrianna pushed.

Mac was at a loss how to defend herself – the truth would no do, denying it would not do, admitting it would not do.

They noticed that Harm was walking back to them. Adriana smiled and stepped in front of her to meet him. "Commander, dance with me."

Harm smiled and kept her at arms length. "Marcus needs you to save him, Adriana."

"Let your beautiful Mac save him," she laughed put her arm through his.

He uncurled her arm. "Not tonight." He reached his hand out to Mac who took it warily. "Excuse us, Adriana," he led her outside to the balcony. Before they disappeared around the balcony doors, Mac saw Adriana smile triumphantly.

"What was that all about?" Mac asked.

"You looked like you needed saving too."

"I can handle Adriana," she smiled. "I am a lawyer – I know how to hold up under cross examination." She was more than grateful for the save.

"I am aware of your ability to defend yourself," he looked at her sincerely. "You shouldn't have to when you are with me on my home court. So, if you'll allow, I'd like to be the hero – host for tonight?" Freud would say that that slip was intentional.

There was an awkward moment when they both looked into each other's eyes and remembered when his hero role netted her in the hospital and him with a gunshot wound. She still never thought that there was anything he could have done to prevent it; she never let her mind wander to the fact that had they been on speaking terms she never would have been left alone. He on the other hand never forgave himself for allowing her to get into that kind of danger. It was by luck she was alive, and nothing he did.

"It is a lovely view," she walked to the edge of the balcony to look out over the gardens.

"Yes, yes it is."

When she turned back, he had not moved and was looking at her not the gardens. "Harm?"

"It is good to see you, Mac."

"I wasn't sure I should come," she said tentatively. "I mean-."

"I'm glad you did," he stepped closer to her. "And that you are here tonight – with me."

Mac got a little nervous. He was sincere and real. She was gaining her objective and wasn't sure what to do. "So, how are you liking Italy?"

"I like it. The CO lets me alone, and the admiral's comments are watered down with an ocean between us."

"Do you miss Washington at all?"

"I do," he looked out over the gardens. "There are some things – some people there that are hard not to miss." They were silent for a moment.

"The place has not been the same without you," she admitted. "Very quiet."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well the admiral looks less stressed – but he is probably just bored. I think he misses you," she turned to him with a serious look. Harm was waiting for something from her to let him know what he should do next. "I miss you too," she said quietly.

"I am sorry … sorry for you that things did not work out with Brumby."

She looked away. "Let's not discuss Mic or any of that." She turned back and was very sincere. "We have each been in relationships and had them end … usually for good reasons."

He smiled. "Usually. Some end before they get started … can't seem to think there is a good reason for that."

"Sometimes there is," she stepped a little closer to him. "Sometimes the timing was off and you discover that it wasn't an ending, rather just a miss opportunity … and then all of a sudden the opportunity presents itself again."

"A wise man would recognize it the second time around."

"And not squander it."

There was another awkward moment – not unlike the number of awkward moments that these two have shared. What should have followed was a kiss; a friendly one and then something that would have meant something more serious. They weren't in Washington. They weren't on the same continent. And though location didn't necessarily change who they were, time and distance had. Yes, what should have followed was a kiss and it would have – that was Harm's next step - but they were interrupted.

"Commander Rabb! Colonel MacKenzie! All we need is a judge and we can take care of this mess right now," said a voice a little too full of wine. They turned and saw a woman coming toward them. "Don't tax yourselves, you don't know me. I am Sharon Stillwell Dobbs mother of Lieutenant Larry Dobbs Jr. And you, commander, are trying to end my son's career before it gets started."

"Ma'am, I am really not a liberty to discuss this with you."

"But you are at liberty to discuss it with my son's lawyer," she took another sip from her wine glass. "This is a very interesting strategy Colonel. Did you plan to seduce the prosecution in order to get him to throw the case? Are you really that good in bed? Is that how you have won all your cases?"

Mac's eyes flamed red. She was about to open her mouth when Harm put one hand on her lower back and the other on her arm, he mumbled some excuse and drove her away from this mad drunk mother. They met the senator on the way into the ballroom.

"Commander Rabb." The senator started. "Colo-."

"Sir, with no disrespect," Harm stated clearly. "I think you need to take your wife home – to the states."

Harm led Mac out of the party without speaking to anyone else. Once they got out side, Mac pulled herself away from him. "How dare you handle me like that," she stated.

"Don't take this out on me, Mac."

"Some HERO – HOST! You just let that woman accuse me of --."

"Of nothing, she accused you of nothing. She was drunk and her mouth was moving. I am sure you can appreciate that."

"Go to hell," Mac was LIVID.

"Mac, what she said didn't require a response or an acknowledgment of any kind. If I - or you - had said anything to her it would only have reflected badly on you."

"I am so sick of this. When will it stop? It is the new millennium - 2000! I have earned my way in life, but no one can believe that."

"I do."

"You don't understand. You can possibly understand what I am talking about."

"No of course not," he smirked. "Having people assume that you have gotten by in life on you looks? Having to prove yourself over and over and over again? Having your skills and abilities called into question every time someone makes a comment like; 'You may look like your father, but you can't possible fly like him.' Or 'What the hell does a naval aviator know about the law.' Or 'What does a lawyer know about combat.' I understand a lot about being prejudged Mac. And yes, it is a little different for me because most people only think that I haven gotten by because of my looks but don't actually say it out loud."

"Have you ever been accused of sleeping your way to the top?"

He looked down and shook his head. "No, I haven't," he was sincere and genuinely sorry.

"Do you know how that feels? It is degrading, demoralizing and – and – and some other de-word that I can think of right now."

"Demeaning? Derogatory? Defamatory? Deleterious?" Harm helped – he was just trying to lighten the mood.

She did laugh, but she was still upset. "Thank you MR. ROGET."

He smiled. "Let it go, Mac. You know the truth and anyone who knows you knows the truth. To hell with everyone else."

"Yeah, that is easy for you to say."

"Yes, it is, but that doesn't make it wrong."

Mac took a deep breath. "Isn't it interesting that my client – accused of sexual harassment – would have a mother who leaps to that conclusion about me."

"Not interesting at all, where do you think Dobbs learned it was OK to treat women that way?"

"Where indeed," Mac's eyes lit up. "What time is it in Washington?"

"You're asking me?"

"I need to make a phone call. Excuse me," she pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

"Mac!"

"Sorry, counselor."

Twenty Minutes Later

Harm was pacing in front of the embassy waiting for Mac to return. At least he hoped she would return. She did but she came with Marcus Jackson.

"Harm, I am sorry to keep you waiting," she was in full lawyer mode; which looked so out of place considering what she was wearing. "I am going to have to cut the night short."

"We have some work to do." Marcus smiled. He loved besting Harm, although it was hard to understand why. With the possible exception of the basketball court, Harm had no interest in competing for anything that Marcus wanted. Harm let him think he did, but he really didn't.

"Found yourselves a new strategy?"

"There are a couple of things I would like to follow up on before court in the morning," she stated.

"I can't imagine what they could be, but knock yourselves out," he was building up his wall. Mac saw it in his eyes and was sorry for it. They had been so close; so close again with nothing to show for it. One more missed opportunity that will only serve to drive them apart again.

"Harm, be a good sailor and take Adriana home for me, would you?" Marcus clapped him on the shoulder. "Make my excuses to her."

Harm nodded.

"Why don't you get the car?" Mac dismissed Marcus. "I am sorry about tonight, Harm," she continued when Marcus was gone.

"Hey, work comes first," he looked away. His irritation was building. "I understand."

"Will you let me make it up to you?"

"That dress is compensation enough, Mac," he said cavalierly. He was no longer in his "escort hero/host" mode he was the arrogant-pilot-who-never-lost-anything-he-didn't-care-to-lose mode.

She felt the change and knew she was responsible. "Harm, before I go back we need to find time to -."

"Sure – after the trial we'll figure some thing out – lunch, dinner, maybe a movie – talk about OLD times."

"Don't do that, Harm," she warned.

"What?" he played dumb.

"Don't shine me on."

"If anyone is doing the shining Mac, it is you," he snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"If you want to pretend that this night was about colleagues and old friends, then you should have worn a uniform," he snorted. "Just remember, you are the one cutting the evening short – not me."

"Harm, it's one night."

"One night – a thousand nights, Mac. They all end the same way."

"Harm it's not like that."

Marcus drove up in his little red Alfa Romeo Spider before Mac could respond.

"Go – do your thing Mac."

"We'll talk later?"

He nodded. With a quick thank you and a less than sincere (in Harm's mind) apology, Mac climbed in and they zoomed out. Harm watched after them feeling more emotions than he had been used to in the last four months – the overwhelming one was foolishness. He hadn't heard Adriana call him from the steps and when he turned back he was surprised to see her standing there.

"She is a stunning woman." Adriana stated. "They make a lovely couple – and would make beautiful babies," Harm still did not respond. "She is not in love with Marcus, Harmon."

'She is not in love with me either,' was the thought that ran through his head. Instead he said, "Adriana, let me buy you a drink."

"Champagne is something I never turn down."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a double bourbon – neat," he put his arm out for her and led her back to the party.

**0136 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Mac was reading over the files and reports that Kate Pike had sent to her. She was alone. She had send Marc home when he realized she was sincere about following up on another angle. He thought she was using it as an excuse to get out of finishing the evening with Harm.

"You were serious?" He said when she reentered from the bathroom dressed in fatigues (which looked a little strange considering her evening make-up was still on and the diamond still sparkled around her neck). When she had said she was going to change he assumed she meant into "something more comfortable" and not … something more comfortable.

"I am always serious," she stated flatly.

"I am beginning to see that about you," he shook his head. "This is a wild goose chase Mac."

"Go home, Marc. I can take it from here."

"I am sure you can," he left.

She had been there over two hours. It was very quiet and she thought she was able to get a lot of work done until she realized that she had been reading the same page for the last forty-five minutes. She was no longer thinking about Dobbs, or his mother or the case. She was thinking about Harm. She was thinking how different it would be if they were working this case together like they used to so long ago. She missed him; she missed him a lot. It just occurred to her how many times in a day – long before this Naples trip ever came up – that she wished she could talk to him; to discuss a case with him; or tell him something funny that happened. She missed her friend and partner.

Then she let her mind wander over the events of the party. It was definitely leading somewhere. If he had kissed her on the balcony, what would have changed in their relationship? Would they have finally crossed that line? For the first time, Mac wished that they would. She wished that they could. She knew that they had to or they would never be able to move on. But there was a part of her that still felt that it wouldn't work in the long run. Another voice in her head said - just as loudly – it won't work if you don't try.

It was then that her cell phone rang and it made her jump.

She flipped it open quickly so that it would not ring again. "MacKenzie."

"Where are you?" Harm's angry voice came over the line.

"At the office."

"Is Jackson with you?"

"No, I am alone. What's going on?"

"I'll be there in a minute. Lock the door."

"Harm, I am on a Navy base, how much more secure can I get?" She tried to blow him off.

"Yeah, we both thought that a few months back and look where that got us. Lock the door."

"Will you tell me what is going on?"

"Lieutenant Wendy Monroe is dead," he announced.

"The chief witness?"

"She was murdered tonight outside her hotel – single gun shot wound to the heart."

This was a surprising new development. "Do you know who did it?" she asked.

"My money is on Dobbs – or at least Dobbs was behind it. Lock the door."

.

A moment or two later, Harm walked into Mac's office.

"Ok, Colonel, enough is enough. Tell me what you have. I want full disclosure," he was angry.

"I can't do that and you know it," she returned his anger two fold.

"This is not about sexual harassment anymore, Mac. A woman – a Naval officer is dead."

"I can't tell you what Dobbs said to me especially if you are trying to pin a murder on him."

"I am not going to pin anything on anyone, I want the truth."

She heaved a heavy sigh. "I know you do," she backed off and so did he. "I can tell you that there is something not right about this case."

"What does that mean?"

"You talked to Lieutenant Monroe, did she seem like a woman who was sexually harassed?"

"I can't presume to know how a woman would act in that situation. I have to believe what she is telling me, until I have facts or at least a reason to think otherwise."

"Well, I don't have any facts," she explained. "Just a gut feeling."

"Those, in the past, have worked very well for you."

She smiled to herself thinking that this man really did know her and really did trust her.

Harm continued gently. "So tell me what you can."

"When I talked to her, she didn't seem to feel about Dobbs they way a woman should feel about a man who has --."

"How can you say that?"

"She can say it because it is true," a woman's voice cut through the room.

Both Harm and Mac turned to see Lieutenant Carroll O'Leary sanding in the doorway. She was Wendy's running mate and another of the witnesses.

"It is true. Larry never – Larry would never. He was in love with Wendy and she was in love with him. He didn't kill her."

Harm and Mac exchanged a look and Harm offered the lieutenant a chair and let her tell her story.

"Larry and Wendy had something electric between them. It happened the first day they met. I saw it; hell everyone saw it. At first Wendy wouldn't let anything happen. She was career navy all the way. She is – was one of the Navy's success stories. She came from a broken home, got into some trouble and was given an out – join the Navy or go to jail. She joined and thrived. She had found her home. She worked hard, went to school and was on the way up – the hard way – one rung at a time."

Harm looked at Mac. She had done the same thing.

"Larry – Lieutenant Dobbs, was just the opposite. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was handed pretty near everything. Amazingly he was not that kind of guy."

"That kind of guy?"

"The kind of guy that takes advantage just because he knows he can. He hated the Navy. He often joked that the only reason he joined was because America LOVES a war hero and granddad could sell a hero. You know he is the son of a senator and the grandson of Jake Stillwell. Larry has enough charisma to go all the way to the White House and grandpa would have made sure that he did. Larry hated politics almost as much as he hated the Navy. He wanted to join the Peace Corps, work on a farm, raise horses and kids. But his family would never hear of that."

"You said that he and Wendy had a relationship?"

"Yes. They were peers in the same chain of command and she didn't want anything on her record that could hurt her chances for promotion. I have to tell you, it was unbearable being around them before they got together – they fought like cats and dogs. When they finally got together; it was love. We kept it a secret from everyone; I was the only other person who knew. Larry's family would never accept Wendy as a wife and Wendy was worried that the CO would find out. She was right, one day the XO walked in on them. Larry came up with this sexual harassment plan so that everyone could win. Anyway what was supposed to happen was that she would file the charges, his family would make it go away but the Navy would insist on his being discharged. His political career would be over and his family would leave him alone. Wendy would stay in and get a posting stateside and everything would be great."

"What happened?"

"Wendy got pregnant," she stated simply. "She found out this morning. When she told him, he wanted to call the whole thing off. They would both take the discharge from the Navy and get married."

"Do Senator and Ambassador Dobbs know about his relationship with the lieutenant?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. But his mother came to see him this evening."

"When?"

"I don't know, around 17 or 1800."

"That was before we saw her at the party," Harm said to Mac.

**0656 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Harm was in his office. He had been dealing with the Shore Patrol and the local police all night. Dobbs was nowhere to be found. Harm hadn't slept and didn't have a chance to change out of his formals.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Mac asked as she entered and put some coffee down in front of him. He did not respond to her question.

"Harm?"

He got up and went to the window. He was very deep in thought. She came up next to him.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked gently.

He turned to look at her and was momentarily distracted by the diamond that still hung at her throat; it reminded him of the promise of the night and the reality of the morning. Mac put her hand to the stone and thought she knew what he was thinking. He looked away.

"Harm?"

"Nothing ever goes the way it is supposed to when you and I are involved, does it?"

"I suppose not."

"This was supposed to be an open and shut fraternization case, now we have a murder and too many suspects to count."

The phone rang and he picked it up quickly. "Rabb … Admiral. . . . Yes, sir. . . . Yes, sir. Yes, sir. She is here with me now," he looked up at Mac. "Yes, sir. …. Understood, sir. Aye, Aye," he hung up.

She sat down. "He told us to handle it on our own. That he had every faith in us and would leave it up to our discretion," she asked hopefully.

"He will be here at 1200 hours," he took his seat at the desk.

"A woman can hope," she pushed her hands through her hair.

Harm leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Ain't love grand?"

"What does that mean?" she asked to his 'out of the blue' comment.

"Well, if we believe Wendy Monroe, she loved the Navy so much she was willing to put her career on the line to make sure a bad officer was punished and removed from service."

"But Lieutenant O'Leary -."

"Yes, there is Lieutenant O'Leary's version of events. She would have us believe that there was a conspiracy on board ship which involved no less than six people all because two people were trying to play a scene from Romeo and Juliet."

"I don't think -."

"And what is her stake in all of this?" He shook his head. "And if we listen to YOUR client, he just LOVED women and women just LOVED him. It was all very . . . concentual."

"Dobbs has maintained -."

"Then of course there is the mother, the father and the grandfather to consider who all loved their son and grandson so much that they would protect him – well his reputation at all costs."

"Harm."

"I say again, ain't love grand?"

"Harm."

"I think it sucks and I think the things we do in the name of love suck more."

She felt his frustration. "You are not talking about them anymore."

"What difference does it make Mac – no one gets what they want – clearly not Wendy Monroe – whatever her motives were."

She got up to leave. He was in a mood and she felt a fight coming on.

"Come on counselor, what do you make of all of this?"

"I think you need to get some sleep and then we should probably talk."

"Isn't that what we have been doing?'

"About us."

Harm stood up and turned away from her. "Will talking make any difference?"

"Why are you so angry with me?" she finally asked.

"I'm not angry with you, Mac. I am just really tired of being yanked around."

"What does that mean?"

"You show up here unannounced after four months of NOTHING … dead silence, you couldn't even bother to tell me that Brumby left, then you ignore me for days, and last night you - ."

"I what?" she defended.

"You dress to kill and act like you actually want me - to be with me. I thought we were finally getting somewhere, then you take the first opportunity you can to choose another man in front of my face – not that that should be a surprise - and NOW --- NOW you want to talk about US."

"That is not quite what happened," she said.

"Which time?" he snapped.

She was going to ignore the Brumby reference. "First, I am not involved with Marc and I didn't choose him over you."

His energy was zapped. He couldn't fight with her. "What do you want from me, Mac? I gave up my home, my career and moved three thousand miles away to give you what you want."

"I don't know what you think I wanted, but it was never that."

He shook his head. "That's not the impression I got. "

"Harm, to steal a line of your dialogue - location doesn't change who we are, or what we feel."

"What we feel?" He was aghast. "What we? – You and I? – What we feel?"

"Yes."

"Well I am at a total loss, Colonel because I have no clue what you feel?"

"Don't take that tone with me," she warned.

"Come on Mac," he goaded. "Enlighten me."

She struggled to find something to say, she was caught a little unprepared. "I am not sure what I feel or what I want when it comes to you. You confuse me, you always have."

"I confuse you?" he smirked. "That's rich."

"I know that you are absolutely the most infuriating man I have ever met – bar none."

"We are on the same page on that one."

Mac continued unchecked, "You're a friend. I respect you; I admire you and I -."

"And?"

"I put myself out there … and you … you rejected me … you said NO."

"I did not," he dismissed.

"And then you left …you walked away … you said NO and you walked away … moved away … 3000 miles away."

"So last night was payback?" he snapped.

"NO," she adamantly defended.

"And for the record, you weren't rejected … you came at me out of nowhere and I said not yet … and you couldn't wait." He took one long stride and they were inches apart. "As for my leaving … You could have stopped me; you could have changed my mind."

"Could I?" He was so close she could feel the heat of his body. She leaned in. "How?" she whispered.

He kissed her. It was the kiss he had wanted to give her since the night he kissed her in his apartment, since the moment she showed up in Naples; since he saw her in that dress. It was passionate yet unambiguous. He was sending a message. Message received and answered – enthusiastically answered.

Or was it? Their eyes locked. They each held their breath expecting answers to the unasked questions: what exactly had happen? Had it meant the same thing for each? What did they do next? Her eyes softened, his smile broadened. There was nothing that needed to be said, nothing that needed answering. For that one brief moment in time, they were in sync. She leaned up to meet his descending kiss.

A knock came on the door, "Excuse me, Commander," Petty Officer Lawry called from outside the door.

Mac pulled away nervously straightening her top. The moment was gone.

"Commander?" the PO called again.

"ENTER," he barked.

"They have found Lieutenant Dobbs," she hesitated knowing full well she was interrupting something. "He's been murdered."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Three**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.

**0730 ZULU**

**Chegwidden Residence**

**McLean, VA**

AJ Chegwidden was dead to the world when the phone wrenched him back to consciousness. He had just hung up with Rabb minutes before and fallen dead asleep. "SOMEONE BETTER BE DEAD!" He bellowed as only an admiral can bellow but quickly realized that he said the same thing before and someone was.

"Well, sir, two people actually." Bud's voice came tentatively over the wire.

"Lieutenant -," he was annoyed, he only had another two hours to sleep before he was getting on a plane to Naples to deal with the mess that was brewing over there. Then the "two" registered. "Explain."

"You know that Lieutenant Wendy Monroe was found shot in front of her hotel."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. Well Lieutenant Larry Dobbs was found dead in a park about 30 minutes ago, the cause and time of death has not been determined."

"Damn it," he sat up and rubbed his face with his hand. "Get me the SECNAV."

"Yes sir."

"And call Andrews and see if you can push up the departure. I'll be on the cell."

"Yes, sir."

**0730 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

"Murdered?" he looked at Mac quickly. She looked just as confused as he did. He turned his attention back to the Petty Officer. "Found? Found where?"

"Vesuvio Park – Parco Nazionale Del Vesuvio."

"Cause of death?"

"Unknown at this time, sir. Also unknown is the time of death."

"So why did you say he was murdered?"

"I just assumed that -."

"Don't assume Petty Officer," Harm scolded. "Find me Commander Jackson. Get him in here on the double."

"Yes sir."

"Lawry?" he called her back. "You better put a call in to the admiral, as well."

"Admiral Chegwidden has been advised."

"I meant Admiral Shenandoah."

She looked worried. "Yes, sir." Shenandoah was the base commander and no one liked him. No one wanted to call him for any reason much less to give him bad news.

"Thank you, Petty Officer," Harm closed the door.

"This case is getting out of control," Mac declared. "If Dobbs killed Monroe, then who killed Dobbs?" she was grateful to be able to concentrate on something other than the kiss they just shared, though it was a bit hard to concentrate.

"No one said Dobbs killed Monroe," Harm corrected.

"We are missing something, something big," Mac chose not to point out that Harm had suspected Dobbs of killing Monroe. "Who would have motive to kill both Monroe and Dobbs?" she continued.

"The two murders don't have to be committed by the same person? In fact one may not be a murder at all. It could have been accidental."

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I think they are related. I wonder if ... " Mac paced the room thinking out loud.

Her voice trailed off in his ears. He couldn't listen anymore. They were talking about murderers and motives when less than 60 seconds prior he was kissing her, wanting her, ready to take the whole thing to the next level. Something had switched on or off for Harm. He wanted her, he knew it and he was willing to show her just how much without fear or hesitation. In the four months of his self-imposed exile it has become very clear to Harm that Mac wasn't Renee, she wasn't Jordan and she certainly wasn't Annie. Mac was a serious woman and dissevered a serious relationship – not just some casual 'let's see how it goes' fling that he had offered Jordan, Renee and even Annie. He was kicking himself for losing her to Mic Brumby – how ridiculous to think that Mic Brumby knew Mac and what she wanted before he did. Harm wasn't about to let her get away again. In spite of his duty station and the current case that seemed full of landmines, he was not about to let the whole thing get swept under the rug. They had swept too much under the rug for too long. He was not going to move on without addressing it in someway. Not this time.

"... to determine the last time -."

"Mac," he said softly.

Mac kept talking but her mind was now on Harm. He was looking at her differently. Clearly he was not listening to her theories on the case, and if truth were told she was not listening to herself either. She was in full avoidance mode. If she had her way this time would be like all the other times when they got close to something and blew past it. She was scared; scared that it would mean more to her than to him; scared that it didn't mean anything at all; scared that she would be going back and it would all be gone again.

"Mac," he stepped softly to her. There was no avoidance now.

"Harm, don't -," she said as a half warning. The look on his face stopped the force behind the words.

"Mac?" he smiled tentatively. "Mac?"

She looked away and shook her head as if to say 'not now'.

He would not be put off. He stepped closer, put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to his. It was a very sweet, very gentle movement. Mac felt herself wanting to fold into is arms and resisted. She hated appearing vulnerable or needy in his eyes – like a little girl.

"Mac?" Their eyes met.

He wasn't looking at a vulnerable needy girl; he was looking at a desirable woman. Being desired by this man is something that she had always wanted. She nodded to let him know that she was OK; it was OK. That was all the leave he needed. He was not about to miss another opportunity; he kissed her again. She welcomed it.

"IS COMMANDER RABB IN HIS OFFICE?" a booming voice came from the bullpen. "NEVER MIND I WILL SEE FOR MYSELF," Harm let go of her quickly and stepped back behind his desk. Admiral Shenandoah slammed into the room. "RABB!"

Harm was at attention and so was Mac. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" the admiral spotted her right away but chose to ignore her for the moment. He turned his full attention – his full wrath on Harm. "So, Commander – you turned a simple fraternization case into a double murder. I knew you were bored here, but never thought you could sink so low."

"Lieutenant Dobbs death has not been listed as a murder, sir."

"Splitting hairs with me, counselor. The man is dead and your butt, your career, your future is on the line for this one."

Harm steeled his spine and remained at attention (his SOP since the second day he was on base). He took the beating well – as he had taken all the others at the hands of his new CO. Harm rarely gave the admiral what he wanted, which was to scare, shame or otherwise degrade Harm into respecting him. That was not going to happen.

"Do you understand what is at stake here commander?" the admiral continued.

"Yes, sir."

Shenandoah turned his attention to Mac. She was an easy target and Rabb would LEAP to her defense, the damned knight in shining armor that he was. "Who is this?"

"Sir, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie USMC, JAG Corps," Mac stated confidently taking her cue from Harm's body language.

"She is defending Lieutenant Dobbs, SIR." the SIR was meant to get the attention off of Mac. It worked.

"WAS defending, COMMANDER! The lieutenant is dead."

"Yes, sir."

"JAG Corps? DC? Did you tell me Chegwidden was sending someone from Washington, Rabb?"

"Yes sir, last week's briefing. Admiral Chegwidden felt that since Lieutenant Dobbs is the son of -"

"I know who the hell he is Commander. I don't need to remind you that the SecNav has a direct line to my butt. And I got it kicked pretty good this morning," he stormed. "I don't like having my butt kicked before I have had my first cup of coffee. Do you understand me?"

"Understood, sir." The target Rabb was not allowing himself to be hit – at least he would not acknowledge any hits.

Again, time to turn on the newbie. "Well thank you for coming Colonel. I am sorry that we couldn't keep your client alive long enough to stand trial," the sarcasm was pouring off the admiral in buckets. Mac wanted to steal a look at Harm, but did not dare. "I guess your trip was wasted."

"Sir, Admiral Chegwidden is en route," Harm stated – again diverting the attention.

"Chegwidden?"

"Yes, sir. He has detailed Mac – Colonel Mackenzie and I to investigate the murders." the 'MAC' was a slip and Harm knew he left himself open.

"He has, has he?"

"Yes sir."

"'Mac'? Is it?" he sneered at her. "Oh yes, you two used to work together at JAG HQ," he turned back to Harm. "Well don't I feel comforted. This is still my base, is it not, Commander?"

"Aye sir."

"And I get to give the orders."

"Aye, sir."

"So, now AJ Chegwidden coming," he scanned them both with a concentrated measure of disgust. "Must not put a lot of faith in his people. I can certainly understand why," the admiral finally noticed that Harm was wearing his formal whites. "And what the hell do you have on, commander?"

"Sir, I have been working all night, I have not had the opportunity to change my uniform from the embassy reception."

The admiral shook his head. He put his finger up to Harm's collar and then looked over at Mac. "Working?" he scoffed. "ALL night? HA." There was lipstick on his collar. "Make the time, Commander."

"Yes, sir."

"Immediately. I will not have you dealing with the police and the press looking like the morning after your junior prom." The admiral turned his attention to Mac. "As for you Colonel, I know you are new here, and I am sure you Marine Washington types want to believe that any place outside of the DC area is a combat zone, but the uniform of the day is not fatigues."

"Yes, sir," Mac stated.

"I want a full report and both of you in my office at 1100 hours."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"Where is Jackson?'

"He is following up some leads, sir," Harm was too quick to defend his friend from the tyrant CO.

"Leads my ass. Drag him out from whatever skirt he is under, I want him here."

"Aye sir."

The admiral took another moment to study Harm, and glanced back over to Mac and then looked back in disgust. "Wipe your mouth, commander. It's not your shade," he sneered. "My office, 1100, the uniform of the day – if it is not too much trouble."

"Aye, aye sir."

The admiral slammed out as he had slammed in, this time leaving the glass in the door rattling to near shattering. Harm breathed a sigh of relief and put his hand to his mouth to see if there really was lipstick there. There was. Disappointment washed his face. He hated how that man made him feel, the only solace he had was that he made sure that the admiral never knew that he got to him.

"Are you alright?" Mac asked.

"I'm fine. I need to change," he said flatly as he headed for the door.

"Harm?" she couldn't believe he was walking away from her.

"I'm sorry," he stopped by the door and tried to shake off that interaction off. "He is no AJ Chegwidden, is he?"

"No. More like Captain Bligh," she moved toward him.

"I guess that makes me Fletcher Christian."

"I thought you liked him, or he liked you or –"

"What I said was that he leaves me alone. Unfortunately, two murders under his watch will tend to get his attention – something you don't ever want," Harm sighed and gave her a quick smile. "I heard he has a plaque in his office that says, 'First let's kill all the lawyers.' Probably the only Shakespeare he has ever read. And, he has no love for naval aviators either, so as you can see, I am batting a thousand."

"Why did he assign you here?"

"He didn't, Admiral Chegwidden did. The last JAG quit after six months. I guess Chegwidden just wanted to stick it to me."

"You?"

"The admiral was not thrilled when I asked for a TAD," he shrugged.

"You are his favorite." she smiled. "He probably took it as a slap in the face."

Harm shook his head. "The admiral knew why I needed to leave, but he was still annoyed. I guess he didn't take it out on you though."

"I'm sorry Harm," she said honestly.

"It is not your fault, well not all your fault," he turned to her. "It is not your fault. Not any of it," he shook his head. "I just can't seem to make a right decision."

She reached out to take his hand. "That's not true."

He looked at her with a look she had never seen before. It was soft and gentle and real. Was it love? She didn't know. She wouldn't presume.

"Are we OK?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled and nodded. "We will be."

"This is not how I would have written it."

"Let's just get through this case."

Harm felt his stomach tighten. "And then what?" he watched her eyes. They had not closed off to him, at least not yet; a huge point in his favor.

"Well – after? We will – we will … I don't know," she had not shut him off. She had not closed the door. She was not backing away either. But she honestly didn't know what to expect, and she hadn't had time to reflect enough to know what she was hoping for. But she hadn't shut him off.

He seized this opportunity too and leaned down to kiss her. She tried to stop him. "Harm, we have work to do," he followed though with the desire. She was glad he did.

A hard knock came on his door. "Rabb! You in there?" It was Marc.

It was ludicrous. "Five minutes, are five uninterrupted minutes too much to ask for?" he whispered to her.

"After all this time, I would have thought it would last longer than five minutes," she said with a sly grin.

"Was that a gauntlet that just hit my foot, Colonel?" he played.

"RABB!" Marc called again.

"WHAT! ENTER!" He backed away from Mac and wiped his mouth.

Marc walked in. There was something in the air, and he knew exactly what it was. "Didn't make it home last night, eh Rabby?" he stole a quick glance at Mac and then whispered to the back of Harm. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"We have been up all night dealing with _la policia_and the Shore Patrol. You are taking over for the next hour. We need to shower, change, and get something to eat. We'll be back at 1000 to go over what we have and what we are doing. We have a command performance with Shenandoah at 1100 and Chegwidden will be here at 1500. You need to follow up with the police, get a probable cause of death for Dobbs and anything else they have on Monroe."

"I also need your notes from your meeting with Dobbs yesterday," Mac added.

"Do you think you can do that in an hour?" Harm asked.

"I can get a lot more done in an hour than you think – maybe you can too," Marc grinned. He was becoming unbearable.

"We'll see you in an hour," Harm led Mac out of the room.

**0823 ZULU**

**Rabb Quarters **

**Naples Italy**

Harm finished his shower. He couldn't explain it but he felt great. Two navy officers were dead. Chegwidden was on his way so the next butt chewing from his ultimate CO would be up close and personal. Shenandoah was ready to drop kick him into the Mediterranean (of course that's not news). The political pressure and the media attention that would focus on him would be unbearable. He had gotten no sleep, hadn't eaten in over eighteen hours and had a caffeine buzz to beat the band. It was shaping up to be a really lousy day. However, he felt great and didn't question why – and he didn't care why.

He shaved and did the pre-dress: pants, undershirt and socks. That was enough until he had gotten some much-needed coffee (got to keep the buzz going or risk a crash and burn) and some breakfast. He entered the kitchen to find Mac at the table furiously making notes in a file. Mac did not look up nor stop writing when she heard him enter.

"I have known whole platoons of women who take less time in the shower than you do," she stated.

"If I had known you were here I would have hurried," he paused. "Or invited you in."

"I made coffee," she ignored his comment.

"You don't mind if I make some fresh?" he dumped her sludge down the drain without waiting for a reply.

"Don't like my coffee, commander?"

"No, no, not at all, if I were chipping paint off the hull of a tender there is nothing better."

She hated her coffee too. "You said something about breakfast?"

"Pancakes or toast and eggs?"

"Eggs, I need all the protein I can get," she paused. "Don't suppose you have bacon or sausage in the fridge do you? Maybe a nice thick steak?"

"Could rustle up a Tofu hot dog," he said playfully. She shook her head and made a coughing sound. He set about making breakfast. "So, you just let yourself in?"

"Door was open."

"Still considered breaking and entering."

"Arrest me – and you can deal with Shenandoah, Chegwidden, and the Dobbs and Monroe families on your own."

"I'll let you off with a warning ... this time," he enjoyed having her in his kitchen and being so easy with him. "So, Colonel. Why are you really here?" he leaned against the counter and studied her.

She looked up, breathed a heavy sigh, recapped her pen and leaned back in the chair. "I thought before the fireworks began and we did not have a moment to think much less talk, we could discuss … you know."

"Ah, I thought it might be something like that," he turned back to continue making breakfast. "So?" he prodded handing her a fresh cup of coffee.

"Me?"

"Your idea."

"Mine?"

"This discussion is."

"You don't have anything to say?"

"I have plenty to say, but I don't think this is a single conversation."

"So we ignore it?"

"Hell no … but we can table it. We are going to be under some intense scrutiny over the next few days. We have to be above reproach. I don't believe this is the time to work through the practical issues. If I have to debate, discuss or otherwise analyze to death what goes on or doesn't go on between us, something is going to get short changed. I don't want that to happen – not to the people who died, not to the families and definitely not to us – we have come too far."

"Harm."

He turned to her. "Further more, I don't want to be walking around on egg shells around you anymore. I am too old for that, and quite frankly, you and I know each other too well."

"Harm."

"Mac please – for all the right reasons and most of the wrong ones – can't we just let it be what it is," he paused.

"What is it?" she pushed.

"It's what we both want," he stated daring her to disagree. "Can't we figure out the hows, whys and whats later?" he continued his argument. "I am not avoiding this … I am just asking for a continuance until we can - - - take the time and attention to do it right."

She watched him for a moment and could think of no reason to push any other agenda. "OK," she said softly.

"OK," he nodded; a minor victory for Harmon Rabb, Jr.

"There is one thing I need to know," she took a moment to choose her words carefully. "What do you expect to happen between us?"

"Meaning?" he placed a plate of eggs and toast down in front of her with a fork, knife and napkin.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Mac, I need us on the same side for a change - for this case – for us - for all of it," he stated and sat down caddy corner from her with his plate. "We were always better together."

She let it sink in for a moment. His use of the word 'need' was very telling, but was it just for the case? No, she couldn't make herself believe that. "We were – but I don't think - "

He stopped her. "That's it Mac – don't think – at least don't think about the past or the future – just right now – here and now," he paused and hoped she would agree. She needed one more push to get her over the hump. "Can you at least try?"

"I don't know," she was relenting. "It's not in my nature."

"I know; believe me I know," he nodded. "Mac, all I am asking for is a truce and a little unfettered acceptance of reality."

"Reality? Yours or mine?"

"Ours, I think."

She finally understood; he wanted to skip over the hard part and get to the good stuff. Right then, so did she. "You have your stay – your continuance."

"Thank you, counselor."

He flashed her his grin, but some how this time it seemed special and for her alone. He wasn't working her or taking as much as he could and giving a little as required in return. She really did want this man for all the right reasons and most of the wrong ones. Where it would lead – if anywhere - was anyone's guess.

They ate in silence for a brief moment. "Why else?" he asked.

"Why else what?" she took a bite of her toast.

"Why else are you here?"

"No other reason," she said not so innocently.

"Really?" his sexy smile was broadening on his face.

"Really."

"You came here, broke into my house -."

"The door was open."

"- To set talk and you want me to believe that is all."

"Well I --," she blushed and looked away. "I came for breakfast."

"Mac."

"If you must know …" He nodded to say that he did. "I thought, maybe, we could find those five uninterrupted minutes."

Harm's face broke into a Cheshire cat grin. "Five minutes won't be enough."

"I agree."

"How many minutes do we actually have?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three minutes won't be enough."

"Twenty-two."

He nodded. "I haven't slept all night. Not really in top form."

"Harm," she stopped him with a hand to his mouth. "Stop talking," she pulled him to her and kissed him.

**1245 ZULU**

**Grand Hotel Vesuvio **

**Naples Italy**

Harm and Mac were walking up the steps to the only five-star hotel Naples had to offer. They were on their way to interview Senator and Ambassador Dobbs.

"So," Harm started. "This is how the other half lives."

"More like the other 1%."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Meaning what?"

"Well after last night --."

"You don't think I can't maintain my professionalism in the face of a small minded, rich bi-."

"I was just offering to let you out of this detail."

"I'll be fine."

"I am sure you are better than fine."

He opened the door for her and let her precede him into the hotel. Mac took note of his gallantry (again) and the comment.

They had just spent that last thirty minutes with Admiral Shenandoah and his accusations. The whole scene was very odd to Mac. All the admiral wanted to do was point out the dozen or so things that went wrong with this case and to find fault – justifiably or not with Harm, Mac and Marc. He didn't really want to know what they learned or what direction the investigation was going to go. He jumped on Mac any chance he got mostly because she was new, not because she was female. Marc did nothing; he let Mac swing in the breeze. Harm, however could not allow that. He would divert attention away from Mac at every turn (Mac took note of it all). Harm suffered the brunt of the wrath of Shenandoah and it was a pretty big brunt. Shenandoah seemed to like to personalize everything and Harm took some serious ego hits and kept a stiff upper lip. The reason for his defense of Mac was actually more about him than it was Mac. Harm was embarrassed by the admiral's behavior and because Mac was a visitor, his guest, his friend; he didn't want her to have a bad impression of his new home. It was way too late for that.

In the end they were told to; "SOLVE IT NOW" and left with a couple new orifices in their respective back ends. They didn't speak of the 'interview' with Shenandoah, but both knew the result of that meeting. Harm's days in Naples were numbered which meant Harm was up to be transferred to just about anywhere in the world at Shenandoah's demand and depending upon how this case was resolved, Chegwidden may not have a say in the matter. Not wanting to lose anymore time, they went directly to speak with the Dobbs.

On the top floor they were directed to the Dobbs suite. Harm knocked and stood back. A young woman, a very beautiful young American woman answered the door. When she saw Harm a switch was flipped and she dropped into full flirt mode.

"Hello. How can I help you?" her voice was sticky and sweet.

"Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb to see Senator and Ambassador Dobbs," Harm stated appearing unaffected by this female. Truth be told, he noticed but was not interested.

"I am sorry, Commander," she slurred with her perfect finishing school drawl taking no interest in Mac at all. "The senator and ambassador are not available."

"I believe that they will be available for us, we are investigating their son's death," Mac's voice was a surprise to this woman.

"This is all your fault!" A man about thirty stepped up to the door pushing the young woman out of the way. "He wouldn't have been in Naples if it were not for this STUPID frat case."

"And you are?" Harm said.

"I am Jake Stillwell Dobbs – Larry was my younger brother," Mac took note of his name, the same as his grandfather's.

"Our condolences on your loss."

"Save it for the papers, Commander."

"It is vital that we speak with your mother and father," Mac said unimpressed with the young man's attitude.

"And you are again?"

"Colonel Sarah Mackenzie -."

"Oh yes, the defense attorney. My brother felt he could get a better defense with a trained –"

"We are here to see the senator and the ambassador," Harm intervened sternly. "But if you have some information that you think might help us discover what happened to your brother, we would be interested to hear whatever you have to say that is relevant to his death."

Harm's unsympathetic demeanor and commanding tone shut this cocky brat down. Jake opened the door all the way and walked into the room. Harm stepped back to let Mac enter first. Again Mac took note of Harm's chivalry: protecting her from this man's wrath and the simple gentlemanly manners of 'ladies first'. What had gotten into him?

They sat down in the sitting area. Jake slouched into the chair. "Veronica, order some espresso and tell my parents that the JAGs are here." The flirty woman did as she was told.

"Would you care to speak to us without your parents being present?"

"They know everything I know."

"How close were you and your brother?" Mac asked.

"We were brothers, Miss MacKenzie," he deflected. "What are you getting at?"

"I believe Colonel MacKenzie has a valid question, how close were you?"

"I loved my brother," came his non-responsive answer. "We were as close as most brothers I imagine. A little sibling rivalry when we were kids, but well over that now. Between college and the Navy we have not had much time to spend together in the past seven or eight years. Holidays mostly."

"Did your brother ever talk to you about the women in his life?"

"No," the answer was too short and too quick for Mac's tastes.

"Did he talk to you about the sexual harassment charges?"

"Look, lady. I know that anything I tell you would be hearsay. I am a lawyer too."

"You are not a lawyer until you pass the bar," Ambassador Dobbs said from the doorway to her bedroom. Both Mac and Harm stood; Jake did not. "Hell, take the bar - I don't ever remember you graduating," she took another drink from her glass; she had all three sheets to the wind and was sailing at top speed. "You should be impressed though Colonel, he has been kicked out of some of the better law schools in the world."

"Our condolences on your loss, ma'am."

She nodded but clearly didn't care about their condolences. "I understand from my husband that I was rude to you last night, Colonel," Mac did not respond but maintained eye contact. "Accept my apology."

"Yes, ma'am."

"So who killed my son? Can't pin it on that little cu- woman that filed charges against my Larry."

Harm nodded to Mac to let her know that he was deferring to her in this questioning.

"Ma'am we understand that you saw your son last night before the embassy reception."

"I did."

"Can we ask you about that meeting?"

"I am his mother. It was the night before his trial. Of course I went to see him and what we talked about is personal."

"When did you see him last."

"It was just after eight."

"Did he tell you where he might be going after you left? Who he might have seen?"

"No, he told me he was in for the night."

"Ma'am, were you aware that your son and Lieutenant Monroe were involved?"

"Isn't that what the trial was supposed to determine?"

"Were you aware that Lieutenant Monroe was pregnant?"

Jake stood up and walked to the window. Harm watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"I am," she slurred.

"Did your son tell you that last night?"

"No, I knew before."

"May we ask how you found out?" Mac pushed.

"You will find out anyway --."

"Sharon, please -." the senator entered from another room. "Don't say anything else."

"I have nothing to hide," she poured herself another drink.

"Slow down Mother." Jake said without turning around.

"My only son is dead! If I want a drink, I will damn sure have one," her vehemence toward her first born was off putting to say the least. "I knew she was pregnant because she told me when I went to pay her to drop these ridiculous charges."

"Sharon – shut up," the senator said sternly.

"Go to hell Lawrence."

"Ma'am, would you like your attorney present?" Harm asked.

"I have nothing to hide."

"You offered to bribe Lieutenant Monroe into dropping the sexual harassment charges?" Mac continued.

"I just said I did, and I will deny it in a court of law."

"Did she accept?"

She snorted into her drink. "No, the little piece of fluff turned me down," she shook her head and looked directly at Mac. "I offered her more money than her whole damn trailer park white trash family could make in a life time, and she turned me down flat."

"When did you make this offer, ma'am?"

"Last night -."

"Sharon, please don't say anything else," he husband warned again.

She laughed. "My husband thinks that I killed her."

"Ma'am?"

"I saw her yesterday around five or six o'clock," she glared at her husband. "This is for the record – I didn't kill her. Not that I didn't think about it, but someone beat me to it."

**1318 ZULU**

**Rabb Quarters **

**Naples Italy**

Harm entered and Mac followed. They needed to stop by his quarters to pick up the files they left there that morning. They were late to the 1000 with Jackson and the files were forgotten. I guess the twenty-two minutes was not enough though nothing more than some serious kissing transpired. That was a joint decision; after all this time, it – the big IT - would be done properly or not at all.

The hours since they left the quarters earlier that morning were very odd to Mac. Harm was tripping over himself to be solicitous, kind, sweet, and gentlemanly. He opened doors and said nice things, was very complimentary of her legal mind etc. It was very off putting to Mac. She didn't like it, but really couldn't put her finger on why. The other thing she noticed was that she felt very protective of Harm. Particularly during that meeting with Shenandoah, she felt herself wanting to shield Harm from that man's cold, cutting and vial remarks. She didn't of course, but the desire was there. This was all new and different and Mac was not comfortable with the feelings.

Mac stayed in the living room. She noticed Harm's dress white dinner jacket on the back of the chair. He had left it there to bring it to the base cleaners. There was indeed lipstick on the collar, but it was not hers. It was a tacky Certainly Red not the rich deep Cranberry Wine Red that she had worn. There was an unreasonable part of her that was ragingly jealous. Mac was normally not unreasonable nor was she the jealous type. She stored the information and checked her rage.

"OK, let's go," Harm said in a chipper – too chipper a fashion holding the files aloft. He was enjoying this – this working with her - way too much. "We need to get back to base before Chegwidden arrives and we need to talk with the coroner first," he checked his watch. "We may just make it."

Mac just nodded and went for the door.

"What? What are you thinking?" Harm asked.

"Me? I'm not thinking anything."

"You looked like you had something you were about to say," he pressed.

"No, nothing."

"Come on Mac, we are working this thing together?"

"No, nothing. I mean, I think we really need to talk to Carroll O'Leary again," Mac was reaching; she had no idea what she was saying. She just flashed on an image of Harm with Adriana and was incensed. It was not like her. She hated it. She stuffed it away.

"O'Leary? Why?"

"Well, her timing was just a little too convenient."

"She was right about Monroe being pregnant."

"But we don't know if Dobbs was the father," her voice got higher and the tempo was at breakneck speed. "And don't you think that story she told about Dobbs wanting to live on a ranch and raise horses and kids just a little too far fetched?"

"You saw that family, not sure there is anything I wouldn't do to get away from them."

"That's just it? It seems too predictable."

"How?"

"What if O'Leary was lying. What if Dobbs really was a – a – a womanizer?"

"A womanizer?"

"A philanderer. It is more reasonable to believe that he would try to cover up his harassment of women with a lie like that, than to believe he was a one woman man and in love – SO IN LOVE as to throw his life, his career and his family away in one fell swoop for a woman – just one woman." By now Mac was angry and it was written all over her face.

"I am not sure I follow," Harm was following he just didn't like where she was leading.

"The males of the species are NOT monogamous by nature."

"I see, is this from your years of study on the subject or did you see this on Oprah?"

"I have known – NOT in the biblical sense – many men and most of them have not been --- monogamous," she was checking her words so carefully it is surprising any of them got out of her mouth at all or they made any sense at all.

"I suppose you are including present company."

"This is not personal, Harm," she cut him off. "Don't feel you need to defend your whole sex."

"While you feel the need to castigate us? Or would you settle for quick and painless castration?"

"That's uncalled for," she snapped back.

"Really – well you have some agenda you are pushing and you are directing it at me."

"I'm not."

"Are you trying to tell me that this case and not something else is pulling this Men-are-from-Mars-Women-are-from-Venus attitude out of you?" he tried to keep his annoyance in check, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

"All I am saying is that we can't believe anything we have heard from anyone because we don't know what their motives are."

"Agreed."

"Agreed?"

"Yes, I agree with you 100% - as long as we are talking about the case and not anything else."

"We are."

"Well, I agree we need more facts."

"Fine," she looked away.

He had had enough. "What is going on Mac?"

"Nothing," she defended.

"Mac!" he commanded.

She closed her eyes. "Why are you being so – so – so gallant?"

"Gallant?"

"Yes, gallant. Why are you being so nice to me? Opening doors for me, defending – no protecting me from Shenandoah and the Dobbs'," she stood firm. "I don't need you to protect me."

"You don't need me to open doors for you either."

"No I don't," she agreed,

"Haven't I always?"

"Always what?"

"Opened doors for you? Defended you? Protected you - when I could?"

"No," she could honestly not remember if he had or not in the past.

"No?

"No, you haven't."

"I haven't always treated you like a lady and with the respect and dignity that goes with being a woman, a friend and a partner."

"No," she relented. "Not like this …"

"It is interesting that you should say that?" he was annoyed.

"Interesting?"

"Well, I just don't understand why you would want anything to do with me if I treated you so poorly," he stopped her from talking. "Nor why you would be so upset if I stopped treating you poorly. In fact it begs the question – do you want me to treat you poorly?"

"You are twisting this around."

"I think you are the one that is twisting this around. I am not surprised though. I knew it wouldn't take you long to pick a fight over something stupid like this."

"Something stupid? Something stupid?" she was raging. "You call another woman's lipstick on your collar stupid?"

Oops – Mac tipped her hand. This was going to be bad. If she could have swallowed her words she would have. If she could have run from the room she would have. But she had to stand there and take it. Harm was going to let her have it with both barrels and she had no one to blame but herself.

"The lipstick on my collar is from Adriana," he was very calm and very rational. He wasn't even going to let her have it with one barrel. "If you remember correctly, I was left in charge of her last night when you had to go back to work with Marcus," he waited for her to argue with him. "Adriana is pretty vindictive and she wanted something last night that she wasn't going to get. I can only assume that she marked me in hopes of raising your ire. Apparently she was not wrong, I am sorry to say." Harm was disappointed. The old Harm would have gloated and rubbed her nose in her jealousy. He would have taken some seriously sadistic joy in knowing that Mac's hackles were up over him with another woman. But the new Harm was just disappointed that she would try to pick a fight over something so silly. "Now, can we go back to work?" he opened the door for her and waited for her to walk out in front of him. He did not want a response. He did not want an apology. He wanted to forget the whole thing. Mac walked out in front of him and allowed him to open the car door for her.

They drove in stiff silence for a while. Mac could take it no longer. "I'm sorry. I must be tired."

"Must be," he dismissed.

"Harm?"

"Look Mac. I won't let you bait me into a fight so that you can prove that it won't work between us. I am not willing to punch out, but if you insist on picking fights with me, then you have made the decision for me."

"I didn't mean to – I'm sorry."

"OK," he looked out the window. "Let's concentrate on the case."

Both dropped back into silence. Mac knew that she caused some pretty big damage but it did not appear to be unrecoverable, at least she hoped it would not be unrecoverable – or maybe she did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Four**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.Chapter Four

**1159 ZULU**

**Grand Hotel Vesuvio **

**Naples Italy**

Sharon Stillwell Dobbs was dead to the world on the floor of the suite – rather she was passed out. She had put away the better part of a fifth of vodka since brunch. Brunch of course was coffee, juice, a half a piece of toast and a bottle of Champagne and a couple of Bloody Mary's.

A male voice could be heard coming from the other room. He was on the phone. "No . . . no, will you trust me. . . . I understand you're scared. . . . There is nothing to worry about. . . . No one will connect us. . . . . I love you. . . . Just follow the plan. . . . . Follow the plan. I will see you tonight, stay calm."

The phone was hung up and a door was heard opening and closing. Sharon Stillwell Dobbs did not move.

**1202 ZULU**

**Airfield - US Naval Base**

**Naples Italy**

Harm watched the plane land and tried to determine just what he would say to his commanding officer. The only thing Harm truly regretted about leaving JAG HQ was disappointing Admiral Chegwidden - again. Sure he missed Bud, Harriet and little AJ. He missed his apartment and being the cock of the roost on his own home court. With Mac, of course, there were so many other things to regret, leaving was the only thing he didn't.

Harm stood at saluted attention and waited as the admiral approached. He kept his eyes forward. The admiral walked directly up to him and returned the salute crisply.

"Commander Rabb," he said as he extended his hand.

"Admiral," Harm could not tell if things would be OK but returned the offered handshake. "I am sorry you had to make the trip, sir."

"So am I."

Harm stepped back and directed the admiral to the car. "How was your flight, sir?"

"Fine, fine."

"And things at JAG?"

The admiral stopped and turned toward him. "Rabb – we both know why I am here," he ended the idle conversation.

"Yes, sir. I am sorry sir."

It all of a sudden occurred to AJ that maybe Harm did not know why he was there. The admiral started walking again. "Are you under the impression that I am here to micromanage your investigation? Or to take you off this case entirely?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, sir," Harm stated. "I know how high profile this is."

"Commander, if you were still at JAG HQ I would have sent you here to handle this. You are the finest investigator and attorney in the JAG Corps."

"I am glad you still think so, sir."

"But you could be F. Lee Bailey, Perry Mason and Johnny Cochran all rolled into one but it still doesn't mean that I get to sit at home with my feet up on the desk."

"No, sir."

"The SecNav is a political animal and loves to get his admirals all riled up, makes him feel like he is doing something."

"Yes, sir," Harm took a chance. "Sir, on that note. Admiral Shenandoah is less than impressed with my methods and the directions I have gone in this – well in most cases."

"I have heard all of Shenandoah's concerns, commander. I've heard them for the last 120 days," he turned to look at Harm with a sly smile on his face. "What did you do, piss on that man's cheerios?"

"No, sir."

"I knew you would be good for Shenandoah … he needs someone who is not afraid of him."

"I have been by the book since I arrived," Harm defended. "He had it in for me before he met me."

AJ laughed. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Apparently, sir."

"Where is Colonel MacKenzie?"

"She is still with the coroner. They were just about to get the preliminary test results on Lt Dobbs when I left, she should be back at the office before we get there."

"And what do you expect those results to be?"

"Unofficially Lieutenant Dobbs was killed from a fall from the top of the running path in Parco Nazionale Del Vesuvio. The approximate time of death is sometime after midnight and before 6AM."

"Could it have been an accident?"

"He was wearing running attire, sir. It could be, but homicide has not been ruled out."

The admiral stopped before getting into the car. "How are you and the colonel getting along, Rabb?"

"Sir?" Harm was not prepared for that question.

"Has the time and distance helped you to . . . to gain a little perspective?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with the case."

**1256 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

In the conference room, they were briefing the admiral on their findings. Mac and Marc were on one side of the table and Harm and Candice (Petty Office Lawry) were on the other. The admiral naturally took the head of the table.

The admiral was reading through a file and asking questions. "Lieutenant Wendy Monroe, tell me about her, Commander."

"Lt Monroe brought sexual harassment charges against Lt Dobbs claiming that he threatened to give her poor fitness evaluations if she did not have sex with him."

"Did you investigate the legitimacy of her charges before you filed against a senator's son?"

"Yes sir. Her statement coupled with corroborating testimony from five other women serving on the Coral Sea."

"Did you interview Lt. Dobbs before you filed charges?"

"Yes sir, with his attorney present."

"Who was the defense counsel?"

"Commander Jackson."

The admiral looked over at Jackson who waited for a question. The admiral turned back to Rabb. "I understand Monroe was pregnant when she was killed."

"Yes, sir. She was six weeks pregnant and it appears that Dobbs could be the father, but the DNA test has not been completed."

"Another candidate has not stepped forward?"

"No, sir. Not at this time."

"What was your impression of the Lieutenant, commander?"

"Sir, she seemed an exemplary officer. She had enlisted in the Navy at the age of seventeen in order to avoid jail time for a criminal misdemeanor charge in her home down of Jeffery City, Wyoming. She excelled quickly and put herself through college and became an officer. She received nothing but high marks on her fit evals in her years in the Navy."

"This unexplained pregnancy would not have been such a high mark."

"No, sir."

"No reason to suspect that this is a lover's spat gone terribly wrong?"

"None, sir."

"If you will excuse me, sir," Mac interrupted. "Last night, after Lt Monroe's death, Commander Rabb and I received an unsolicited visit from Lt. Carroll O'Leary. She is a running mate of Monroe's. She gave us a different story."

"Sir," Harm countered. "We have not had time to investigate to confirm or deny the information O'Leary gave us."

"What did she tell you?" the admiral looked at Mac.

"She told us that Monroe and Dobbs were having – were in love, sir," Mac found it very difficult to have this conversation. She felt Harm's eyes boring holes into her. He wasn't, but that did not stop Mac from feeling that way. "She told us that this whole sexual harassment case was a ploy to get Dobbs out of the service. To discredit him."

"To what end?"

"According to O'Leary sir, he wanted to get out from under his family."

"Well, he seems to have accomplished that." The admiral shook his head. "How would O'Leary have known this?"

"She said that she was a friend to both Monroe and Dobbs."

"I see," he kept flipping through the file. "Any reason to believe that O'Leary is lying?"

"Unknown at this time, sir," Rabb jumped back in.

"I suggest we find out. Monroe was shot in front of her hotel, do we have witnesses?"

Marc finally had something to add. "Yes, sir. Well, witnesses but no one saw the actual shooter. From what we can gather, the shooter was driving a dark sedan, with military plates."

"A dark sedan with military plates, well THAT certainly narrows the field," his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It appears that Monroe knew the person because she approached the car and was shot once in the chest with a 9mm. The car drove off and no one got the license plate. In fact none of the witnesses heard the shot and did not realize that Monroe was dead until after the car had disappeared around the corner."

"How long before we have the full forensics on both Dobbs and Monroe?"

"1900 - 1930 sir." Rabb stated.

"Fine. I want you two," meaning Rabb and MacKenzie, "To go home and get some rest. You both look like death warmed over. We will meet back here at 1930. Rabb, get the forensics from the coroner. Jackson what will you be doing?"

"I have people to talk to at the park and I am still trying to locate Lt O'Leary."

"She has gone missing?" Mac asked.

"No, well not necessarily. She asked for emergency leave this morning to deal with the death of Monroe. She was not supposed to leave Naples, but she is not home and no one has seen her in six hours. I expect she will turn up."

"Find her."

"Aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Aye, aye sir."

Mac's quarters were a short walk in one direction and Harm's were a long walk in the other.

Mac caught up with Harm.

"Are you mad at me?"

He turned back toward her. "No."

"For telling the Admiral about O'Leary?" she clarified.

Harm shook his head. "I'm just tired," he was a little annoyed too. He would have launched into his reasons for not wanting to share that information with the Admiral, but it didn't matter. Mac was right to do it. Whatever came of that disclosure of O'Leary's – be it truth or fiction, regardless of the motives - it was pertinent to the case in some way. "I need some sleep."

"Yeah, me too."

There was an awkward moment when they both realized that they didn't know how to say good-bye to each other in public and in uniform. Ultimately, they mumbled a 'see you later', gave a slight smile and nodded a goodbye.

**1730 ZULU**

**Rabb's Quarters**

**Naples, Italy**

Harm rolled over in his bed and clutched the pillow to his chest. He wasn't really sleeping but he was enjoying lying still and not thinking. He had shut the case, the admirals and Mac out of his mind – as much as he could. Slowly he was pulled closer to consciousness; there was a dull pounding that echoed in the back of his mind. A quick glance at the clock let him know that he had had at least 10 – 12 more minutes, but those minutes would have made all the difference.

The pounding continued; then his cell phone rang from the living room. He dragged himself out of bed and to the door.

"Who?"

"Harm, it's Mac," she said tentatively.

He opened the door; then stumbled over to get his phone.

"That was me, too," she said and the phone stopped ringing.

He gave her a look that said he was less than pleased.

"I was worried you were going to be late," she defended.

He staggered back to his bedroom and flopped face first down on the bed.

"Harm, it's time to get up."

His face was buried in his pillow. A muffled comment was made but she could not understand him.

"Harm?"

He rolled over onto his back and lifted the pillow enough for her to hear what he said. "Mac you really ought to set that clock of yours back. Daylight savings time or something."

"We have work to do," sat down on the side of the bed – the only place to sit in the bedroom. "You are going to be late," she prodded.

"You are too," he looked up at her. "If you don't get off my bed."

"Harm?"

"Twice in one day, colonel, --- alone in my quarters," he said. "People will say we're in love."

"Harm!"

"No red lights in here," he grinned.

"Do you always wake up so --," she chose not to finish that comment.

"Only when I wake up to a beautiful woman – at my door, in my bed."

"ON your bed."

"PO-tato … to po-TA-to," he stretched.

There was a momentary pause.

"I am sorry about earlier today," she said softly. "I over reacted and it had nothing to do with you – well not really," she explained.

"No excuse Mac," he tossed the pillow away and rolled to his side to get a better look at her. "If this – if we have a chance in hell, we need to stop playing these stupid games."

"I know," she turned away and said softly. "And start a whole other set of games."

"I can get behind that," he nudged her gently with his foot. "Call the admiral and tell him we have a little investigating to do on our own. Tell him we will see him in the morning."

"Can't do that," she pushed his foot away.

"Would you like to?" he grinned.

She paused for a moment and looked at him seriously. "Very much."

"Jesus, Mac," he rolled over and sat up. "You are confusing the hell out of me."

"I know; I'm my own worst enemy."

He laughed. "I didn't say that." He paused because he thought she might actually be serious. "You don't believe it, do you?"

"At times I do," she owned.

"Not saying that I agree, but what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," she smiled at him. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I'm full of ideas."

"I'm sure you are – but we need to be at the office in less than 36 minutes."

"Right," he pulled himself out of bed and proceeded to the bathroom.

"I really am sorry, Harm," she repeated.

He stopped by the bathroom door and looked at her very seriously. "I know."

"Harm?" she wanted something else from him.

"Look, Mac. It's not a lock – this thing with you and me. I gave it up for a lost cause months ago."

"Does it have to be all or nothing?"

He laughed loudly; "With you? Usually."

She looked sad. "Maybe that has changed."

"Maybe … quite possibly," he said hopefully. "On the other hand …"

"On the other hand?"

"Maybe I want it all."

"Is that true?"

"Don't know," Harm came over and squatted down in front of her. "But I would like to find out." He took her hands in his, kissed them. "Slowly … over time … and lots of … talk." He pulled her down to kiss her.

"I've missed you, Harm."

"I have missed you, too."

"Harm?" he looked up at her. "I -."

The phone rang. It startled Mac.

"Go on," he said. "The machine can pick it up." It rang a second time.

"No. It might be important."

His first thought was to say that 'this was important – SHE was important', but she was clearly not going to continue her thought. He moved away and picked it up on the third ring. "Rabb . . . Yes, sir. . . . Right away," he hung up. "Shenandoah wants me in his office, ten minutes ago," he shook his head.

"Why?"

"Didn't say."

"I'll get the forensic reports and meet you back at the office."

Harm headed for the bathroom, Mac stopped him with a touch to the arm.

"You will be fine," she told him.

"I don't know how much more I can take from that man before I blow."

"I know. Sometimes this job really sucks," she reached up to touch his face. "Harm?" he looked deeply into her eyes. She was trying to tell him something but the words were caught in her throat.

"Yeah, me too," he kissed her softly.

**1836 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Mac was waiting for the admiral to finish his phone call. She had the forensic reports with her.

Dobbs died from injuries sustained in the fall down the side of the hill. There was no sign of alcohol in his blood and no sign of struggle. The only thing of note was that his shoelace was untied, but there was no telling when it became untied.

Monroe was officially seven weeks pregnant. The DNA did not match Dobbs, but there were enough matching points that the tests were requested again.

The admiral hung up.

"Commander Rabb -," Mac started.

"Won't be joining us," he did not look at her when he said it. "OK colonel, tell me what you've got."

Marc entered quickly. "O'Leary has been spotted at the hotel."

"Which hotel?"

"The one that Monroe was staying at."

The admiral nodded. "Go. I can read these myself. Keep me informed."

Mac reluctantly left with Marc.

**1956 ZULU**

**JAG Offices**

**Naples Italy**

Harm was in his office packing his personal stuff. There was not much just a couple pictures: one of his dad and him, one of his mother and Frank and one of Harm and the JAG crew. When he returned from his meeting with Shenandoah, Mac and Marc had gone to follow up on some leads. A notification came in that he had received an e-mail. He checked and then picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hey Bud," he forced a smile into the phone.

"_Commander. Hi. What Time is it there?"_

"Six hours ahead of you. What did you find out?"

"_Well sir, I e-mailed you the report, have you gotten it?"_

"Downloading it now, just give me the highlights."

"I was not able to connect Lt. Monroe and Lt. Dobbs at first. They seemed to have only been aboard the Coral Sea for three months."

"At first?"

"Well sir, I checked into any connection with a Dobbs and a Monroe and I hit pay dirt."

"Bud."

"_Yes, sir. Lt. Monroe graduated the University of Georgia 1997 and Jake Stillwell Dobbs graduated in 1993. Jake Dobbs is Lt. Dobbs' brother_."

"I am aware of that Lieutenant, but that would mean the Dobbs graduated before Monroe arrived as a freshman."

"Yes, sir."

"So how are they connected?"

"I am still working on that sir."

"Bud you gotta give me something."

"Lt. Monroe was a member of the Young Republicans."

"How the hell is her politics going to help me?"

"Well, she worked on the election campaign for Bob Dole."

"BUD."

"Well, that was the year that Senator Dobbs ran and won."

"Are you suggesting that Monroe could have met Lt. Dobbs during the campaign?"

"It's a stretch – pretty big stretch sir."

"It is thin, I will grant you. What else do you have?"

"Well, sir, it seem that Lt. O'Leary was in danger of losing her commission."

"Why?"

"Bad fit reps, tardiness, excessive leave for personal reasons; she is not a model officer sir."

"Well she is UA again, Bud."

"_Sir?"_

"Took leave this morning to deal with Lt. Monroe's death no one has seen her since."

"_That's funny." _Bud flipped through some papers. _"Sir, I have a number of comments on her file about her filing grievances about Lt. Monroe."_

"Grievances?"

"Yes, sir. Everything from the way she maintained their cabin, personal hygiene to work related issues. It appears that they were less than friendly."

"Excellent work."

"_Thank you sir."_ There was a short pause_. "Sir? When are you returning to JAG – I mean DC_?"

"Not in the cards, Bud."

"I know the admiral, Commander Pike and Harriet would all love to have you back. Even the colonel misses you like crazy, sir – I mean she does not seem to be the same. I mean – well –"

"It's OK Bud, Mac and I are talking again – sort of," he laughed. "Thanks for asking, but it won't be anytime soon."

"_Yes sir."_

"I'll stay in touch and you know the e-mail stays the same."

They hung up. Harm had more questions than he had answers, but he was ordered off the case and needed to report to his new duty station in 36 hours. Those orders came from higher than Shenandoah and higher than Chegwidden. In fact Harm believed came directly from the SecNav but really didn't understand why. In the past he had stretched the limits of the law, of his command, of the orders he was given, but not this time. This time it was completely by the book. Maybe he should have pushed the envelope.

He pulled together some notes from the conversation with Bud and downloaded the files and left them for Mac. He thought about calling her, but in 36 hours they would be out of each other lives again with no hope that that could change. This reassignment was punitive, and those orders rarely if ever get changed. So there was no need to drag it out. It was better that it ended before it had gone too far.

**2015 ZULU**

**Grand Hotel Vesuvio **

**Naples Italy**

Ambassador Dobbs was standing on the balcony smoking. Her husband entered from his bedroom.

"What's the matter, Lawrence, your girlfriend have a date tonight?"

"Why don't you drown yourself in that bottle, Sharon?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? But you'll never be reelected without me at your side."

"You mean your father's money in my bank."

"One phone call, Lawrence, one phone call and you would be lucky if you could get a job pushing paper at the DMV."

"Don't threaten me, Sharon. You're not good at it. You need me more than I need you."

"How far is that bimbo going to get you when the money runs out? Huh? Do you honestly think she loves you for your charming personality? HA."

"Have another drink, Sharon. Maybe you will fall off the balcony and put us both out of our misery."

He started to walk away.

"Did you kill Larry?"

He turned back to her. "What? Don't be ridiculous."

"You always hated him," she accused. "He was not your son, you know."

"I knew … I knew before I married you. Your father made it very clear what he was buying and what I would be getting."

"Always about the money, huh?"

"All you had to offer." He smirked. "But Larry knew … and he did care. He hated you for it."

"Larry loved me."

"No he didn't. He loathed everything about you. Probably the only thing we had in common. I wouldn't be surprised if he threw himself off that cliff just so he could get away from you. God knows I have thought about it often enough."

"GET OUT!" She screamed. "GET OUT before I scratch your eyes out."

"MEOW."

**2135 ZULU**

**Hotel Europa **

**Naples Italy**

Mac and Marc were standing on the steps of the hotel where Lt. Wendy Monroe was killed. Mac clicked off her cell phone. She looked very concerned.

"Rabb still not answering?" Marc asked though he really didn't want to hear the answer.

"He could have left his phone at home, but he is not answering at the office either."

"So what goes on between you two?" Marc intruded.

"Excuse me?"

"You should have told me that you two had a thing, and I never would have played tour guide."

"We don't have a 'thing'," she said gruffly hoping to put him off.

"Please, Mac. I saw that dress. No woman puts a dress like that on for a man she is not trying to bag."

"I am not trying to bag the commander," she defended.

"Right."

"You know sometimes your arrogance is just a little off putting," she was mad but tried to turn her comment down a notch. "But it is a good thing I am used to dealing with Harm and his ego."

"I'll bet you are used to dealing with more than his ego."

"Commander – enough."

"I thought we were friends. So, why did Rabb ask for a transfer?"

"It was a TAD," she corrected.

"No it wasn't. Did you two have a fight? Another man? You wanted to get married with kids, a dog and a white picket fence and Rabb went screaming for this hills – or in this case as far away as he could get?"

"My relationship with the commander is not your concern."

"Heard that," he was watching two people across the street in a coffee shop – lovers to be precise. They were kissing like they weren't out in the open. "Now there are two people who know how to PDA. Wouldn't it be nice to be that open, that free. Wouldn't see that in America, God knows. And certainly not in the military."

Mac looked over. She recognized the woman as Carroll O'Leary, but the man had his back to her.

"That is our Lieutenant, Marc."

"Really," he smiled. "Looks like she is managing her grief well. How does that go again? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance – this must be the bargaining or acceptance, cause she doesn't look angry or depressed and she certainly isn't in denial." The man turned and Mac got a good look. "Have any idea who that is?"

Mac knew who he was immediately. He was Jake Stillwell Dobbs.

**2305 ZULU**

**Rabb's Quarters**

**Naples, Italy**

Harm had packed his bags and was ready to go. He didn't have to leave until the next afternoon, but there was nothing else to do. He had poured himself a good stiff drink and was planning on getting smashed, but his heart wasn't in it. The drink remained untouched. He was reviewing his life and the mistakes that he made. At the moment the request for transfer he made four months ago was uppermost in his mind. A selfless request – one that he thought would be good for Mac, the admiral, everyone at JAG – was the worst mistake he ever made for himself. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and be careful what you wish for – they say.

Never before had he come across someone so vindictive as Shenandoah and he had no idea why. For the first three months things were fine – not great but pretty much the admiral left him alone. It wasn't until the Dobbs case was referred to his office that things got dicey. Harm knew that Shenandoah had aspirations toward the political arena but he did not think that he could be so unreasonable. The last meeting Harm did let loose. There were some things he said that he wished he could take back, but since he was getting screwed he wanted to at least have defended himself in some fashion.

There would be a final meeting with Mac. Hell, she had already called four or five times. Since he turned his cell phone off, unplugged his answering machine and let his home phone ring; he knew she would come by before morning especially with the cryptic note he left her. He was counting on it. Yeah, that was a little game playing on his part, but what the hell. He was feeling sorry for himself.

The knock came to his door just after midnight. He heard it. He was wide awake. In fact he had heard her walking up the sidewalk with that determined step of hers. He could pick it out anywhere. He didn't move.

The knock came again followed by her calling his name and trying the doorknob. It was open, of course.

The room was dark as Mac entered and called his name again. His eyes were adjusted to the dark and shadows. Her form in his doorway was the sight he was waiting to see.

"Harm?"

"Breaking and entering again, eh Colonel?"

"What are you doing?" she went to turn on the light.

"Don't," he said quickly. "Don't turn on the light."

"What is going on?" she entered and closed the door behind her and took a seat on the couch near him.

He shifted his position to see her better. He tenderly pushed the hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. His smiled was sad and a little ironic.

"Harm?"

"Emory Land."

"What?"

"My next assignment – the Emory Land."

"That's a tender. A submarine tender."

"Yes, yes it is. Very good for a marine."

"I don't understand."

"They need a JAG. Not so bad, the Emory Land is not just any tender, the finest in this man's Navy – actually the only one in this man's Navy - with eighty-three officers, over twelve hundred crew, fifty-three shops, it can handle up to twelve subs at one time and generates it own electricity, water etc. It is truly a marvel of the modern Navy," he took a drink from his glass. It was actually the first sip he had all night.

"Harm?"

"It's alright Mac. Sooner or later I was bound to piss off the wrong person and pull an assignment that I didn't want. That's what the Navy is all about – doing a job that has to be done whether or not you want to do it."

"Why didn't he just send you back to DC?"

"Probably because I wouldn't have minded going back to DC."

"Did you talk to the admiral about this?"

"Nothing to talk about. This came from higher than a two star."

"The SecNav?"

Harm shrugged.

"What are you going to do?"

"Report to my new duty station at 0800 day after tomorrow."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much." He took another drink. "I think they are hoping that I will quit."

"So that's it? You are just going to sit here and let it happen to you."

"Well, I thought, before I left, I would do something I should have done along time ago," he pulled her to him and kissed her – not one of those we-only-have-five-minutes kisses either. They had all night – at least he hoped they had all night. That would be up to Mac.

She pulled back. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough," he smiled. "Nothing. Really," she didn't believe him. "Really."

"Harm."

"We may never have another chance."

"Don't be so dramatic, you're not going to the moon."

"I might as well be."

"You still get leave and so do I."

"Is that the kind of relationship you are looking for?"

"No, but you can draw another assignment in a few months."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"They can't keep you overseas indefinitely."

"We are in a war, Mac. I think they can do pretty much what ever they want to do."

"Harm, this doesn't make any sense. What did you do?"

"Nothing – totally by the book."

"A tender?"

"You know the Emory Land is a fine ship, and by treating this assignment like I am being sent to Siberia is disrespectful to the men and women who serve on her with pride."

"Harm, you were supposed to be the next JAG and now they are sticking you in Sardegna?"

"It's done Mac and pretty much nothing short of an act of God or the congress will change that."

"Harm --."

"Forget about it. It's not important," he sat up a little. "Let me say what I have to say."

She heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. She really didn't know what was next.

He summoned up his courage and wished that he actually did have more to drink; took a cleansing breath and dove in. "I love you, Mac."

Mac's breath caught in her throat. In all the years she had known him, she never expected that he would or could ever make that clean, that open a declaration of his feelings - to anyone, much less her, even if it were true.

He continued after he was sure she heard him. "God help me, I love you. We don't have a snowball's chance in hell of making a life together, but there is no other woman I can imagine spending my days and nights fighting with than you."

Mac was floored. She was given a gift and then slapped in the face with it. She didn't know how to respond.

"Mac?"

"I don't know what to say."

"That's a first," he leaned back away from her. "Not quite what I expected, but definitely novel."

Her cell phone rang. She gave him a pleading look. "I need to take this," he shrugged, picked up his drink and moved away.

"MacKenzie… Yes, sir… Yes, sir I am aware of that," she gave a quick look at Harm. "Yes, sir… If I hear from him I will have him contact you right away… We have her restricted to base, sir… Thank you sir. Good night," she hung up. "Admiral Chegwidden would like you to call him."

Harm nodded. "Who is restricted?"

"O'Leary. Found her in a compromising position with Jake Dobbs, of all people."

"AH – the plot thickens."

"Harm I really need your help on this."

"I have been removed from all official resp-."

"That it has never stopped you before. Help me – unofficially if necessary."

"Encouraging me to break the rules? Boy you have changed."

"Harm."

"I am less than motivated."

"I know, but I really could use -."

"Mac, I have eighteen hours before I have to take the transport to La Maddalena. To be quite honest with you, I had something else in mind to do with those eighteen hours. If it makes you feel any better though, you are a key component in my plans."

She paused to see if he were serious. Was he really asking her to - - - He was. "I am not sure that is such a good idea."

"Can always count on you to be practical."

"We are in the middle of this case -."

"You're in the middle of this case."

"It's unresolved," she sighed and walked to the other side of the room. "That would just throw a whole other complication into the mix. And now that you are shipping out? I don't know. This doesn't feel right."

"I'm sorry you see it that way."

"It's just too much in so short a time," she wiped her face with her hands. "It is all happening so fast."

Harm was shot down. If he were in a plane, he would have punched out. In fact, that was what he did. "Right, well OK then."

"Harm, please."

"No, nothing – no please, it's fine. I understand."

"Do you?"

"Sure," he looked really smugly disappointed.

"Cause I don't think you do, not really."

"I do. Just go back to your quarters, get some sleep. - - - I'll help you in the morning – 0600 – when we are both fresh."

"You're dismissing me?"

"Didn't get a chance – you have pretty much dismissed me."

"It is all or nothing with you."

"Nope, just nothing."

"Harm."

"Mac, I told you how I feel …."

"And then you immediately took it away."

"How the hell did I do that?"

"By saying that we don't stand a chance – something about snowballs in hell."

"Am I wrong? Look at us. We can even agree to not agree. This is nuts."

"What kind of response were you looking for? Did you want me to argue with you about our chances?"

"I would have settled for you love me too."

"Of course I do – that's a given."

"Given to whom? I am ready to let go … and you don't want to be a part of it"

Mac sat down on the couch. She was frustrated. "I'm sorry."

"For god sake Mac, stop apologizing," he sat down in the chair next to her and drained his glass. "Just tell me what you want."

"I want this to not to be so damn difficult."

"If wishes were horses."

"Beggars would ride," she turned to him. "Harm, would – I mean, if we did – tonight – what you want – would that make any difference?"

"I'd like to think so and I'd like to think that is wasn't just me that wanted to share --," he paused, she nodded slightly hoping that he would interpret it that she was interested to – it wasn't just him. He wanted to believe that, but couldn't. "But you are asking the wrong question anyway."

"What should I ask?"

"If we didn't – tonight – would it make any difference?"

She took the difference of the question in.

Before she had a chance to respond, Harm did. "The answer is no. It would just be one more disappointment, one more missed opportunity – hell I bet we have dozens of those in our future."

"Why do you want m --- this if you don't see anything good coming out of it."

"I see plenty of good … but I see so many road blocks that we will never get there."

She was silent for a moment. "If feels like bad timing, Harm."

"Maybe it is. Maybe it is just like Sydney. Maybe that is what we are all about – bad timing," he sniped. "Or maybe the only way we will ever get past where we are is to push through the bad timing."

Mac shook her head. "Would you still be pushing this agenda if you weren't shipping out tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"You see. It feels like granting a condemned man his last wish."

He laughed. "You are something else MacKenzie," he shook his head. "I tell you, no two people I know can zap a mood like we can."

"Why is that?"

"We talk too much." He reached out for the back of her neck and pulled her to him for a searing kiss. She weakly attempted to pull away, he would not release her. He stood up sweeping her up into his arms as he carried her toward the bedroom. Just before he passed the threshold he paused; waiting for his OK.

"You expect me to stop you?" she trailed kisses down his neck.

"Only you can."

"You wouldn't rather have a blindfold and a cigarette?"

"Maybe later," he grinned and covered her mouth with his. He still had not entered the bedroom as she still had not agreed.

She started pulling at her uniform jacket. "I want you," she breathed.

That was all he needed for his "green light." He kicked the door shut behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Five**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.Chapter Five

**0543 ZULU**

**Rabb's Quarters**

**Naples, Italy**

Mac woke on the wrong side of the bed – literally the wrong side – actually it wasn't the _wrong_ side it was just the other side from where she started. She stretched and remembered that she was alone in bed – his bed, their bed, THE bed. He had whispered for her to sleep before slipping away from her sleepy embrace. That was a while ago. How long? Mac really didn't know. Her internal clock had been cleaned, wound and reset but it was not hooked up yet that morning and if she had many more nights like the one previous, she may never hook it up again. She felt fantastic, particularly considering she had had less than four hours sleep in the last forty-eight.

"I want you," she said. She couldn't believe she actually had said it, she couldn't believe the reaction.

"I want you," she said. He groaned his desire; that was all the permission he needed. She met his kiss with a yearning that she had been holding onto for that precise moment. The timing was finally right – well, wrong or right - it was then. Thoughts of the case, of the transfer, their possible future had vanished. Each had one thought in mind – one thought alone – and nothing would get in the way. Very few words were spoken at first, at least words that would have been understood by anyone who was not in the bed. It started out intensely passionate and amazingly intimate – as if they had known each other's bodies and desires instinctively. A dam had burst; they made love with complete and total abandon until dawn's early light. Then as the sun crested the horizon, when she didn't think there was anything left to experience, he told her he loved her, of missing her, of praying that somehow he would get another chance, of his promise to himself not to ruin it if he ever did, and vowed not to let time or distance get between them. She was stunned by so much honesty. Their kisses turned sweet, tender, gentle. Their love making was not between impassioned desperate lovers, it was between two people who had genuine sincere love of the other. It was amazing – the whole experience, start to finish – utterly remarkable.

She was alone, but knew he had not gone far. She pulled herself from the bed and slipped modestly and seductively into his shirt. She savored the cool of the silk and the faint smell of him. She closed her eyes trying to hang on to the feelings of completeness and fulfillment. That morning would be different than any other morning they had shared; different from any morning she had ever shared with any man. She didn't want to rush into it. How would he greet her? How should she greet him? How had the protestations of love and intense intimacy changed their relationship – as friends, as co-workers, as new lovers, as potential partners in life – for it was materially changed? Were there regrets? What was next for them? Would there be a next? Of course there would be a next, next Harm was shipping out to the Emory Land and she would be going back to Washington – and regardless of what that mean for them, there would be a next?

Mac was thinking too much, always her Achilles heel. caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was beautiful, even in her own eyes. Some how she seemed brighter and lighter and her posture was straighter. Her skin seemed to glow (that could have been the Naples sun bouncing) and there was a smile on her lips that could not be forced away. Even she had to admit that she looked dead sexy in Harm's shirt and her hair in slight disarray. She smiled to herself – that morning would be different from any other morning and she was going to relish every moment of it.

She walked into the living room. Harm was not there. She heard him in the kitchen. He was very nearly dressed talking on the phone and making notes in a file. "Harm?" she said softly.

He turned quickly to see her; she surprised him. The sight made him pause in mid-sentence and forget what he was saying. It took the repeated prompting of whoever was on the line to bring him back.

"Yeah, Bud – let me call you back. Excellent work," he hung up. "Morning." His smile was seductive and his voice was still full of the tenderness of the whispers of hours before. He reached his hand out to her.

"Talking to Bud? What time is it there?" she moved toward him slowly.

"You are asking me?" he pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips and pressed her completely to him. She wrapped her arms around him and tucked her head under his chin.

There was a short pause, as neither knew what to do next. Harm's first desire was get her out of his shirt and to take her back to bed. If he had his way they would have no duties or responsibilities, no one would be looking for them for the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours. That was the feeling he woke with. But the truth was he was shipping out in just over nine hours. Nine hours that could be better spent, but had to be spent dealing with the problem before him. He had decided to challenge the transfer, the transfer designed to end his career, the transfer that would compel him to quit, the transfer that would make seeing her again near impossible. He would not allow it - at least not without a fight. He wanted to explain all that to her, but he realized that he didn't need to. She knew him well.

"I think I got a lead on something," he said. "I think there is another 'mystery' caught up in this whole thing."

"I don't understand," she pulled away from him to get a cup of coffee. Harm took a seat at the table.

"It was something you said to me last night."

"What did I say?" she sat down caddy corner from him.

"You ask me if I was just going to let it happen," he took her hand in his. "The answer is no."

"I knew that."

"I-told-you-so's are not allowed here because we would be here all day listing all of them."

She smiled. "So what have you got?"

"We know the order came down to Shenandoah but we don't know from whom. SecNav is a possibility, but why? Why would anyone give a rat's behind where I am stationed? So it has to be related to this case, who has the power to get something like that done and has a vested interest in this case?"

"A senator?"

"Or an ambassador with a very wealthy father."

"You think Ambassador Dobbs wants you off this case? Why?"

"I don't know if it is her, or her father or the senator. I think that one of them maybe a lot more involved in this than we think."

"That is a little thin, Harm."

"I have been on the phone with Bud for the last half hour. He has been able too link Monroe and O'Leary to the senator or at least the senator's campaign. We have reason to believe – but I can't prove it yet – that Monroe was familiar with the entire Dobbs family when she was at the University of Georgia."

"It is an interesting idea. It would explain why her charge of sexual harassment felt wrong."

"You called it, counselor."

"What about O'Leary?"

"O'Leary and Monroe were roommates in college. O'Leary was two years ahead. They were cabin mates for years. About six months ago – after they were transferred to the Coral Sea, something must have happened, because O'Leary started filing grievances – most of them petty and no disciplinary action was taken."

"What kind of grievances?"

"Various and sundry – housekeeping, some minor work stuff - petty."

Mac got up from the table to go retrieve her briefcase from the living room. When she came back she was flipping through her note pad. Harm sat back and watched her. She was totally unaware of exactly how she looked: fresh from their bed, dressed in his shirt and nothing else and acting every bit the confident investigator as she would in a room full of generals. He was awed by her.

"Have I told you that you are an absolutely stunning woman?"

Their eyes met. He knew he hadn't. That morning he had more intimate knowledge of exactly how stunning she was; he felt the need to state it out loud. She believed that he found her attractive; but with Harm what is not said is just not said. Nothing should be implied, inferred or assumed. Now it was said. It surprised her to realize that she felt stunning before he said anything.

"I applaud your zeal, Sarah, but it will be hard to concentrate with you in my shirt – hell it will be hard to concentrate with you in a burlap bag."

She returned the smile seductively. "The price you pay, sailor." She leaned into to kiss him, but her cell phone rang. "Remember where we were," she went to the living room to retrieve her phone.

"You can count on that," he said softly.

She flipped the phone open. "Two missed calls?" When did the phone ring? She walked slowly back into the kitchen as she spoke into the phone. "MacKenzie... Good Morning, sir... No, sir. I was awake. ... They found it, where? ... Yes, sir. ... Yes, sir. … Washington? When? ... Yes, sir. But I don't understand why -... No, sir... No, sir. ... Thank you... Right away." She hung up. "The good news or the bad news?"

"Good."

"They found the weapon that killed Monroe."

"Where?"

"In the park near where they found Dobbs' body. It was wrapped in a NAVY t-shirt and had most of the finger prints wiped clean. But they were able to pull a partial print that matched Dobbs."

"In the park? So now they are going to say that Dobbs killed Monroe, went to the park to dispose of the weapon, slipped, fell and died accidentally. Case closed. Am I right?"

"With the possible exception that WE are THEY and I don't believe that for a minute. Of course this is where the bad news comes in."

"Bad news?"

"We have been ordered back to Washington – the admiral and I. We leave today at 1300."

"What? Why?"

"SecNav's orders. With these preliminary findings, they want to keep this whole thing as quiet as possible."

"They want you off this case too. We are close to something."

"Clearly they don't know us very well," she smiled knowing that neither Harm, nor the admiral, nor she would stop investigating.

He grinned. "No, they don't," he loved working with her. "What did the admiral say about that?"

"Nothing, he sound irritated," her phone rang again. "MacKenzie ... Sir? ... Commander Rabb? ... Yes, sir. I am having breakfast with him right now. He thinks he might have a lead on the case... Yes, sir. He knows... Sure," she turned to Harm and pushed the phone at him. "Admiral Chegwidden would like a word with you."

Harm shook his head. He couldn't believe that she told the admiral that they were together. Saucy minx. He took the phone and stood up. "Rabb... Yes, sir. ... I saw no reason to bother you with it, sir... Yes sir, I am aware that I have been removed from this case... No, sir. It had not crossed my mind," he laughed a little. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir... No, sir, I am making breakfast... Sir? ... Certainly, please. ... We will see you then." Harm snapped the phone shut and tossed it back to her. "Nice work colonel, the admiral will be here in 15 minutes for breakfast."

"What?"

"There goes breakfast in bed."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," he shook his head. "Had to answer your phone didn't you," he stepped up to her, pulled her out of her chair, and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist. "Don't worry, counselor, there will be other mornings – a lot of other mornings – believe it," he kissed her deeply. She pulled away.

"Harm, I slept in my uniform."

"Not for long you didn't." That impish grin was not doing it now that the admiral was on his way. "Take a shower and I'll iron out the wrinkles. Go – hurry, I have a breakfast to make."

Eighteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. The place had been completely picked up. The bed was made and the breakfast table was set. Mac was on the couch with the files from the case spread around her looking busy but just a little too much at home. Harm was in the kitchen cooking. The knock came again. Harm answered the door with a cup of black coffee for the admiral in his hand.

"Admiral, please come in."

The admiral nodded, entered and took the offered coffee. Although there was no physical evidence, the mood in the room suggested that he was stepping into the middle of something – rather interrupting something. Mac looked sheepish and Harm was over compensating.

"I brought pastry," he stated flatly and handed the box to Harm.

"Thank you. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. Have you talked to Bud this morning sir? Has he caught you up on what he and I have been working on?"

"I have. And commander you have to realize that Lt. Roberts is not your personal assistant and he is six hours behind us with a wife and son."

"Yes, sir."

"But – as usual - he has done some very impressive work."

"He has sir."

The admiral took a seat near Mac. He looked a little nervous or out of place. Harm took the other chair. "I am sorry I barged in on your -," he started.

"No sir … I would have invited you, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I had this idea and called the colonel to bounce it off of her. She seems to think that -"

"OK – Look. Before we get too off track – and you start making up lies on top of lies - I have to say something to you both, and I really didn't want to say this at the office."

"Yes, sir?"

He struggled with his words for a moment. "I am not sure where to begin."

They waited.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?!!!" he barked. "Are you _trying_ to be court-martialed?"

Mac sat up straight and looked forward. Harm was not about to take it lying down. "Excuse me, sir?"

"You two are smarter than this, did you think that you were above the rules and regulations – above the standards of conduct for officers?"

"I'm sorry sir, what are you talking about?" Harm was becoming annoyed even in the face of his not-a-leg-to-stand-on defense.

"Don't play dumb with me commander. I am speaking to you now not as your CO but as your friend. Did you think you wouldn't get caught? You both know the law, better than anyone else, did you think that no one would find out or if they did, it wouldn't matter?"

"I say this with all due respect, Admiral -."

"Harm, don't." Mac pleaded.

"This is none of your business." Harm continued unchecked.

"None of my business?"

"No, sir."

"What Harm is trying to say sir -." Mac defended.

"None of my business. So I guess it was none of my business that I got a call at 0300 from Admiral Shenandoah asking me if I knew where my JAGs were. Evidently Shore Patrol had just retrieved Commander Jackson from the Naples Police for soliciting a prostitute and was looking for Commander Rabb or Colonel MacKenzie to release him to."

"Sir, I find that very hard to believe, I know Marc -."

"Rabb, for Jackson's sake as well as your own, don't try to give him a character reference."

"Sir."

The admiral looked over at Mac to continue is tirade. "Further he told me that Colonel MacKenzie was not in her quarters and it appeared that she had not been all night – which begs my question where was she when I spoke to her last night after midnight."

"Umm." she stuttered.

He glared back at Harm. "And Commander Rabb appeared to be home, but did not answer his door or his phone."

Harm and Mac shared a quick glance thinking that there was no way they would have heard someone knock on their door and his phone had been shut off.

"All this is none of my business. It was so much NOT my business that I had to get up, go down, have Jackson released to me. Listen to his story - and I must say a better piece of fiction I have not heard in years."

"Again sir, Marcus would not solicit -."

"Rabb – shut up," he waited to be sure that Harm would not speak again. "Next I get a phone call from the SecNav ordering me back to Washington. Evidently someone – possibly the admiral or the SecNav - has decided that the case is closed. Dobbs' death has been ruled an accident and all evidence points to Dobbs in the Monroe murder."

Harm looked at Mac, his suspicions were confirmed. Whoever was pulling the strings got all the investigators off the case, and would sweep the whole thing under the rug.

"And what do I find next? I find that my senior attorney and the bane of my existence – two people who have been unreachable for the past four to six hours – are having a 'cozy' breakfast together discussing 'the case'; this non-existent, closed case. So, commander, do you want to tell me again that this is none of my business?"

There was a slight pause where no one knew just what to say next. "Sir, just so I am clear." Harm said. "I am the 'bane of your existence' right, not the colonel?" Harm had to smile.

"I am glad you find this all so amusing, Rabb. You will laugh your way right out of the damn Navy if you are not more careful."

"I'm sorry, sir," Mac said in Harm's defense.

"Do you realize Commander that I spent the bulk of last evening trying to get your orders canceled?"

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me Commander, it's not over yet. And with stunts like last night it may not get done or ever undone. You maybe stuck in the middle of no where dug in so deep that you will never get out."

"Yes, sir."

The admiral was exasperated but really was not angry with them. "If this were any other place or time, I would be happy for you – I think? Who knows with you two? Should I be happy for you?"

Harm and Mac exchanged a look. "Yes sir." They both said.

"Good – well good. That's great. Just great," he shook his head. "I am happy for you. But from now on, save it for your own time. And I mean YOUR OWN TIME – like LEAVE and not TDY's – and for god sake, do yourselves a favor and answer the damn phone."

"Yes, sir."

"Have I made myself perfectly understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Fine – commander, breakfast?" The admiral was done with his tirade, which ultimately felt more like an overprotective father's scolding of his children. He cared – frustrated with all the events that were out of control – but he cared about Harm and Mac, both personally and professionally.

"Yes, sir. Omelet – Denver or Mushroom and Fontina?"

"Fontina?"

"Cheese – like a smoky Jack."

"Fine." Harm retreated to the kitchen and the admiral looked at Mac. "I suppose I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting a couple strips of bacon with that."

Mac smiled and nodded. "Well, sir, I think the odds of the snowball are looking up – but not in the breakfast meat arena."

**1018 ZULU**

**Grand Hotel Vesuvio **

**Naples Italy**

Ambassador Dobbs was supervising the packing of her suitcases. She looked like hell. She was showered, dressed and put together nicely but her mood was undeniably over shadowing her Donna Karin suit and $600 hair cut. She normally looked like a million dollars. But that morning she was taking the body of her dead son home to be buried. Lawrence entered and sat down by the window.

"Do you want me to go with you?" he was gentle and civil.

"No, I would prefer that you don't," she was not drunk, probably the first time she landing in Naples, but she was also saying a little as possible to her husband.

"Your father will meet you at the airport," he tried again.

"I spoke with him last night."

"The funeral will be tomorrow?"

"Yes, and no military honors," she warned.

"I'm sorry, Sharon. The public is going to want something."

"That public can kiss my ass."

"Excuse me miss," he said to the maid. "Will you excuse us? Scusa per favore." The maid looked at the ambassador who nodded. She left. "Sharon please," he really wasn't trying that hard to convincer her. He knew that the senor Stillwell would make sure that all protocol was followed.

"Larry was my whole reason for living. Without him there is no reason to go on," she fought back the tears and hung on to the anger. "I want you to have his name cleared of the sexual harassment charges and the murder."

"Sharon, don't. It won't bring him back. It won't make any difference."

"It will to me – to his memory. I don't what people to believe that he is capable of threatening and killing women."

"Sharon."

"He was the most gentle, the most kind, the most loving son a mother could wish for. He would have been president of the United States."

"I loved him too, Sharon," he stated. She snapped a look at him as if to imply that he had no right to love her son. "He was my son too – and biology can go hang. I raised that boy as much as you did." The ambassador looked away. "And I am.." he teared up. "I can't believe he is gone."

"Then you can't possibly believe what they are telling us," she said calmly.

"No, but I also know that there are other people to consider. You have another son."

"No I don't," she spit back at him. "My only son is dead."

The living room door slammed. Someone had just left. She looked back at her husband, who looked very disappointed. Jake was probably in the living room the whole time listening in. She sat down on the bed and put her face in her hands.

"You have another son, Sharon," he said again gently. "You have to protect him. It is what mothers are supposed to do."

A realization came over her. She turned and glared at her husband with an accusing stare. "Why? What reason could he possible have?"

"He loves you. He was trying to protect us."

"US? There is no US," she shook her head. "Protect us from what?"

"From a situation that had gotten out of control."

She thought for a moment. "You dog. You disgusting, cradle robbing dog. You got that little bitch pregnant," he looked away and did not deny it. "You make me sick."

"I loved her Sharon," he continued on unchecked. "I was going to leave you for her."

"No you wouldn't. I would have had respect for you if you did." She put up her hand, and looked away. "You would have taken my money and given her the life a whore – a whore mother of your bastard child. You are a spineless, money grubbing, dupe."

"I would have Sharon, you can believe me or not. That was the reason she filed harassment charges against Larry. He was trying to convince her to not abort the baby."

"Larry knew about this?"

"He had known about Wendy and me for years."

"I am surprised the whole world didn't know … you are about a discrete as a bull in a china shop."

He looked down. "He knew how much I loved her and how much I wanted that child. He found out about the baby before I did."

"When, when did he know?"

"Not more than ten – fifteen days."

"So you have both your sons fight your battles for you. Doing your dirty work. What happened Lawrence, did she tell you that she would rather die than marry you?"

"I had nothing to do with that, but Jake did it for us."

"He murdered his brother and that home wrecking piece of trailer trash?"

"Larry was an accident. They struggled for the gun and Larry slipped. It was an accident."

"I've heard enough," she reached for the phone and husband crossed the room in two steps to stop her.

"Don't, Sharon. Don't. You will lose everything – we will lose everything."

"I have nothing left to lose."

"Your name? Your reputation? Your job?"

"He's right Sharon." The elder Stillwell walked into the room.

Sharon wiped her eyes. "Father, I thought I was to meet you in Washington."

"I am here to fly back with you," he said sternly. "Put the phone down Sharon. Put the phone down now."

**1336 ZULU**

**JAG Offices **

**Naples Italy**

Mac was dealing with Marcus and his solicitation charges. They all felt that it was a set up too. The admiral and Harm were in with Admiral Shenandoah. The investigation was not closed, and any orders to leave Naples were belayed on Admiral Chegwidden's orders.

The phone rang. "MacKenzie... Yes, ma'am... No, ma'am... ... ... ... I understand," she hung the phone up. Marcus looked at her quizzically. "I know who killed Monroe and Dobbs." Mac got up to leave.

"Who was that? Where are you going?"

"I need to find Jake Dobbs."

"I am restricted to base."

"Then I will go alone."

"Take a weapon," he called after her.

Mac left. Mark was at a loss. Should he follow her? Should he stay? He stayed and put a call in the Shenandoah's assistant.

"Hi, Commander Rabb and Admiral Chegwidden are in with the admiral right now? ... Well when they get out, please have them call me at the office... No, I don't think it is urgent... Thank you."

Adriana Marlenetti walked into the office. "I thought you would be in jail."

Mark turned at the sound of her voice.

"And I bet you thought Rabb would be safely tucked away on the Emory Land. I think you severely underestimated Harmon Rabb."

"Not Rabb, just MacKenzie."


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Six**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.Chapter Six

**~~FLASHBACK - 1338 ZULU - JAG Offices - Naples Italy**

"I need to find Jake Dobbs," Mac said after she hung up the phone.

"I am restricted to base," Marc Jackson answered. He was becoming so much less of the man she thought he was.

"Then I will go alone," she couldn't wait for Harm; the ambassador had told her that her son would leave the country soon.

"Take a weapon," he called after her.

Mac left and Marc put a call into Shenandoah's office.

"Hi, Commander Rabb and Admiral Chegwidden are in with the admiral right now? . . . Well when they get out, please have them call me at the office. . . . No, I don't think it is urgent. . . . Thank you."

Adriana Marlenetti walked into the office. "I thought you would be in jail."

Marc turned at the sound of her voice.

"And I bet you thought Rabb would be safely tucked away on the Emory Land. I think you severely underestimated Harmon Rabb."

"Not Rabb, just MacKenzie."

"So, Adriana – was this little solicitation charge a message or a punishment?"

"I don't get ditched at parties, sailor."

"You wanted to be with Rabb, I wanted to be with Sarah – I thought it was a perfect solution."

"I am no one to be trifled with – and Harm and I will be together when I say, not when you say."

"Will Rabb have anything to say about it?

"It will be his idea – or so he will think."

"Is that so?" Harm's voice cut through the room.

Jackson turned and came to immediate attention when he saw that Admiral Chegwidden was with him.

Adriana turned slowly and maintained her smug haughty air. "Commander – and who is this?" she smiled seductively at the admiral.

The admiral stepped up before Harm had a chance to say anything. "I am Admiral AJ Chegwidden. I am the Judge Advocate General for the US Navy. And you, my dear, are no longer welcome on this base or associating with the US Navy – how is that for trifling?"

"Escusi?"

"Let me escort you to the gate, I believe the marines have orders to revoke your ID pass and prohibit you from ever setting foot on this or any other military base again."

She ran her tongue across her teeth and licked her lips. She had met her match with the admiral – he would not be flirted with. The admiral led her out.

Jackson relaxed his attention after the admiral had gone.

"You knew about this," Harm accused.

"I knew she was thinking about it – but I didn't know."

"How did you not tell me? My god, Jackson I thought we were friends."

"It was harmless, Rabb. You would have been back in Naples in a week or as soon as Mac was gone."

"Until the next time I refused her."

"Harm, it was --- ."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," he shook his head. "What does she have on Shenandoah that she gets him to do what she wants?"

"What would Adriana have on anyone?"

"And you played right into it and led me there too," Harm shook his head. Just this morning he was being accused of 'conduct unbecoming' and come to find out the admiral and his colleague had him beat hands down.

"The Marlenetti's are very influential – they could have been very useful to a guy like you - with all those political aspirations."

"You can kiss my aspirations, Marc. You messed up."

"Harm, come on. She has an attention span of a gnat – she would have forgotten all about you in a week or two – after you gave her what she wanted."

"Forgotten about me is right – dry docked on the Emory Land for the rest my natural life."

"As soon as Mac was gone – "

"Save it Jackson – you are not who I thought you were – not even close."

Harm left after a few moments he came back.

"Where is Mac?"

"She went after Jake Dobbs."

"What?"

"She got a phone call and said that she had to find Jake Dobbs. I left a message with Shenandoah's assistant."

"Why is she going after Dobbs?"

"She is your girlfriend Harm. How the hell am I supposed to know what she is thinking?"

He pulled out his phone. It was still turned off from the meeting. He turned it on and tried Mac's cell. No answer. When he hung up there was a message from her.

"Harm, it's Mac. When you get this call me. I am headed over to the Hotel Vesuvio to arrest Jake Dobbs. The ambassador called and said that he is the shooter and responsible for Lt Dobbs' death. He is headed out of the country now so I need to get there before he gets away. Don't worry – I won't approach him alone, but get here quickly." The call came in about twenty minutes prior.

He clicked the phone off and tried her number again. No answer.

"Damn you Jackson, you should have gone with her."

"She is not some ditzy girl, Harm. She's a marine, she can take care of herself," he shrugged. "I told her to take a gun."

"You better get used to be restricted – to a 10 x 10."

Harm turned to leave and ran straight into the admiral.

"Excuse me sir."

"What the devil – "

"Mac has gone after Dobbs. He is the shooter."

"When?"

"I got a message from her – twenty – twenty-five minutes ago."

"Commander you are not going -."

"Please admiral, you can't order me -."

"GOING ALONE. I am going with you."

The men left and Marcus remained behind.

**~~FLASHBACK - 1359 ZULU – Hotel Vesuvio, Naples Italy**

Mac knocked on the door of the Dobbs suite. She had found out from the bellman that Ambassador Dobbs had left that morning; Jake Dobbs had checked out shortly before she did and that Senator Dobbs has called for a car in an hour. Jake had already made his escape. She knocked again - and a third time. It was answered by Veronica – she was in a state of undress, but trying to recover.

"Jake Dobbs," Mac stated.

"He is not here," she said with a haughty air that Mac wanted to slap off her face.

"Do you know where I can find him?"

The senator came from the bedroom. He was also in his dressing gown and had no intention to trying to hide the fact that he and Veronica were 'indisposed'. "She is right, General. My son is not here, and I have no idea where he is and if I did - - - well you know the rest."

"Colonel," Mac corrected. "Senator, you know why I need to find him."

"I know you can try, but I can't – rather won't help you," he pulled Veronica away and closed the door in Mac's face.

Mac was about to knock again when a voice came from behind her.

"You are looking for me?"

She turned and was face to face with Jake.

"I am," she said. "I have some questions for you."

"Good, we can talk as we drive," she noticed the gun in his hand; it had been covered by his coat. She nodded. He reached behind her and pulled her weapon from its position. "I assume you know how to handle this," Mac nodded. "Well so do I – and look at me not one day in the military."

Mac's phone rang. Jake pulled it out of her pocket and read the caller ID. "HARM? Harm is calling you. Well, well Colonel, you two are closer than you let on."

"Commander Rabb will worry if I don't pick up. He will find me."

"He will look, colonel, but I can guarantee you he won't find you. Don't worry; I don't expect to have to use this – not on someone as beautiful as you. I just need a little more time, and can't let you interfere with that. So --- let's go."

Harm and the admiral arrived at the hotel twenty minutes after Mac and Dobbs left. They were told by a bellman that Mac was driving and it looked like they headed south. A trip to the senator's suite netted nothing. The senator was not quite so blatant when talking to the admiral that not only did he have no intention helping he would go out of his way to interfere to provide is son enough time to get away.

Harm tried Mac's cell again, but it was turned off. Harm remembered Carroll O'Leary just as a call came in from the base that she was requesting to see him. He returned the call.

"What is going on Lieutenant?"

"Sir, things have gotten completely out of control."

"Yes, they have, but you can stop this."

"It was not supposed to be like this."

"You can stop it – where is Dobbs going?"

O'Leary started sobbing on the end of the line. "I'm sorry," was the only thing understandable.

"Lieutenant! Where is Dobbs headed?"

"Salerno – he has a condo there – and a yacht in the harbor."

Harm handed the phone to the admiral. They were totally in sync, the admiral handed Rabb his phone and the each nodded. Harm would head south toward Salerno via the highway, Chegwidden would get all the details and meet him down there with some back up.

**~~FLASHBACK - 1746 ZULU – Dobbs Condominium - Outside Salerno, Italy**

Rabb and the admiral were in constant contact the entire 45 minute drive to Salerno. Carroll O'Leary had eventually provided an address and the name of the yacht. Harm had gone to the yacht first. There was evidence that it was being made ready for a cruise, but no one was aboard. He found the local police, told them of the situation and convinced them to not allow the boat out of the harbor.

The Dobbs condo was about 10 minutes from the harbor. The address that O'Leary had given was not quite accurate, but Harm found Dobbs' car. They were there. He crept up to outside the door and listened as he heard them arguing. He was waiting for the admiral to show up with reinforcements. He would not jeopardize Mac's life – not like he had done four months ago.

"_Where are you going to go, Jake?" Mac asked._

"_Anywhere – Fiji, the Virgin Islands, Greece."_

"_They all have extradition treaties with the United States. You will be brought back and tried for murder."_

"_I didn't kill Larry – he fell. He grabbed for the gun and he fell. You have to believe me."_

"_I do believe you."_

"_I loved my brother – my perfect brother. Everyone loved him."_

"_I met him; he seemed like a good man."_

"_He was the best!"_

"_What about Wendy Monroe?"_

"_That was an accident too."_

"_She was shot in the chest with a 9mm."_

"_I only wanted to scare her – the gun just went off."_

"_You see, Jake those are extenuating circumstances that a jury would be forced to consider."_

"_Stop it! Just SHUT UP! I know the law lady – I know it better than you do. There is no way to prove that my intent was not to kill her. God knows I wanted her dead for what she did --"_

"_Accusing your brother of sexual harassment?"_

"_No – don't be stupid. That was just her last offense against my family. For what she did to my mother alone – she should have been shot."_

"_What did she do to your mother?"_

"_Like you don't know! SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! Or I'll SHUT YOU UP."_

Something was thrown across the room, which was followed by a loud crash. Harm was ready to bust in the door, but he heard Mac's calm voice again.

"_I am sorry. It must be painful to talk about."_

"_Did you get your PhD in psychology too, Colonel?"_

"_No."_

"_Where the hell is Carroll? She should have been here by now."_

"_Maybe she had trouble getting off the base."_

"_I thought you fixed that – you said you fixed that. That is why I let you use the phone."_

"_I did – she has been released but she still needs to get a car and collect her clothes. It takes a woman longer."_

"_Are you still trying to BOND with me Colonel? Save your breath. Look, if you are not going to be helpful to me, I should kill you right now."_

"_You said you weren't going to kill me." _

"_Yeah - well – things change. If Carroll is not here in fifteen minutes – this party is over."_

Mac was silent for a moment – trying to come up with a new strategy. All she knew was that she needed to keep him talking.

"_Carroll likes to sail?"_

"_She should – she joined the Navy," he laughed. "But honestly she hates small boats."_

"_They can be dangerous."_

"_Maybe I should just take you with me instead. You are a very beautiful woman."_

"_I wouldn't be much good to you – I am a marine, not a sailor."_

"_You'd be perfect what all I have in mind – God knows the plumbing is right. You know colonel, that uniform does nothing for you. On my boat you'd go naked – all women should be naked."_

Mac bit her tongue and nearly drew blood.

"_How did you find me anyway? I mean what put you on to me?"_

"_Your mother called me and told me that Larry was an accident. She asked me to help you."_

"_Now I know you are lying! My mother would never rat me out – and she would never defend me!"_

"_Your mother is a very complicated woman to understand."_

"_Not complicated at all – if you are not Larry or a bottle of Vodka – she could give a rat's ass about you."_

"_Must be hard being her son, if that is true."_

"_Shut up, Dr. Freud. I don't need your stinking analysis. I am sick of you and your mouth. I should just shut you up right - " _

There was a loud sound of flesh hitting flesh. Mac tried to stifle her cry out. That's it. Harm could wait no longer. Jake Dobbs was bomb just waiting to go off. Harm stood, checked that there was a bullet in the chamber, took a deep breath and kicked the door in.

"DOBBS!"

Dobbs moved the gun quickly off of Mac and got one shot off before Harm returned fire twice. Jake Stillwell Dobbs was hit twice in the chest. He fell from the balcony to the ground below. He was dead – dead to the world.

"Harm!" Mac called.

Harm went to the balcony to be sure.

"Harm!" Mac called again.

He stumbled over to where she had been handcuffed to the radiator. His adrenaline was still pumping so hard he did not feel the pain in his upper chest.

"Sarah, are you alright?" he squatted down next to her touched her face and her arms to be sure she was in one piece.

"Fine. Fine. Are you shot?"

"Where's the key?" he yanked at the cuffs, which were behind her back.

"There is one on my key ring, side pocket," she moved so that he could reach inside her jacket to pull out the key ring.

He did. "You keep a handcuff key on you key ring?" he smiled. "Giving me some ideas." His sly grin faded into a pained grimace as the movement it took to undo the cuffs ripped through his arm and shoulder.

She was free. They kissed quickly, she wrapped her arms around him, and he tried to bring them both to standing. His attempt was met with a wave of dizziness. He was forced to sit back on his heels.

"Harm?" she noticed the blood. The more he moved the more oozed out. "Harm, you've been shot. Sit down."

Harm fell back against the wall. "Good, I thought you were too heavy to lift and I didn't know how to tell you." His attempt at humor was weak.

Mac dropped into first aid mode. She retrieved her phone from the table. She contacted emergency services and gave their location. She unbuttoned his uniform coat to inspect the wound; then quickly took off hers.

"Mac, we don't have time for that now," he coughed.

She refused to respond to his 'innuendo.' "We have to stop the bleeding," she wadded her coat up and firmly pressed it on the wound. He winced. "I'm sorry."

"It is nothing. A flesh wound," he coughed again. The jacket wasn't doing it. She grabbed a pillow from the couch.

"Damn you. Always have to play hero. Super Rabb."

He coughed again and spit up some blood. "Guess I left my tights and cape in my other uniform."

"Should have brought your bullet proof vest."

"It's at the cleaners," he reached a hand to her face, but did not touch her when he saw all the blood. It shocked even him. She was intently looking his wound. Every bit of military and triage training was spinning around in her head.

"Harm, lie down," she pulled him into her lap first checking to see if the bullet had passed through. It hadn't.

"Sarah – you know what I was thinking this morning – after we . . . uh well after-," he stifled his coughs – or tired to.

"Don't talk now, Harm," she cradled him and smoothed the hair off his face.

"I was thinking that I could die happy," he laughed and it dropped into another coughing fit. "It was funny at the time."

The water in her eyes nearly spilled over, but she pretended to be mad. "That's it? One night is all you want?" her voice was cracking but she was forcing herself not to think about what she knew to be happening. The blood was leaving his body, he was cold, and he looked pale. They were in a remote location, and the hospital was miles away. "If I had known you were such a cheap date, we could have gotten it over the day we met."

"Now you tell me."

"Well sorry sailor, I am not through with you yet." It was taking every bit of strength she had to stay strong for him.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I -" Words failed.

"How can you be sorry, you don't know what I am mad about?"

". . . blanket apology – five years of stupidi - ." **cough**

"I don't accept." The tears spilled over. "You are not getting off that easy," her words trailed off.

He was coughing again. When he was able to catch his breath, "Love you, Sarah – always -."

"Harm? Harm?" she leaned down to press her lips to his, but his body had gone limp. Her cries of anguish were muffed as she buried her face in his neck and held him tightly to her. She heard the sound of a helicopter approaching and it gave her a sliver of hope. "Harm, hang on – just a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer – we have too much to – hold on."

Three medics and the admiral came in. She looked up at that admiral with the tears washing the blood from her face. The admiral's heart sank.

"Mac, are you injured?"

She shook her head. The medics went to work on Harm immediately. She thought, "They will know what to do. They will save him," she kept repeating that to herself as she watched them work on him. Their faces did not give her any hope.

The admiral pulled her up and wrapped a comforting arm around her. He didn't care that his pristine white uniform was now stained with Harm's blood too. They watched as they put Harm on a stretcher with IV's and such and instructed them to meet them at the hospital. No room in the helicopter. They would have to drive. It would be more than an hour back to base.

"There is room for the colonel, gentlemen." The admiral ordered knowing that Mac would not want to be left behind.

"No sir, not if you want him to have a chance."

Mac nodded. "Take care of him."

"Yes, ma'am."

Mac and the admiral followed them out to the helicopter and watched as they loaded Harm gently and took off. She buried her head in the admiral's chest. She no longer cared that she was a marine: a strict, strong, indomitable marine and he was her commanding officer. He didn't either. He wrapped her up in a fatherly embrace hoping that she would not ask him to say what he believed to be true. They would not see Harm alive again.

The admiral needn't have worried. She would not ask a question that she did not know the answer to– first rule of law - and love.

2003 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Mac and the admiral arrived at the hospital and were directed to where they were treating Harm. He had been in surgery for the last forty-five minutes. There was no word on his condition other than he was still alive. A nurse came up to Mac. She was concerned that Mac was injured too. Mac tried to wave her away. She offered to take her to a place to shower and change out of her bloody clothes. Mac refused.

"Colonel this could be a while," the admiral said gently.

Mac shook her head and then caught her reflection in the window. She was covered in blood. It frightened her. She turned back to the nurse and noticed one of the corpsman standing near by. She went up to him.

"Ma'am"

"How is he?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"He is a fighter, ma'am."

"Will he live?"

His face washed with darkness. "I have seen marines injured far worse, ma'am. It is up to the doctors now. They have good doctors here. Commander Wilkins is the best."

"Thank you," Mac started to walk away.

"Ma'am, if you will excuse me?"

"What is it?"

"Do you know who 'Sarah' is?"

"Sarah?"

"Yes, ma'am. The commander asked for a Sarah."

"I am Sarah."

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am," he looked nervous like he had a piece of personal information that he shouldn't have.

"What is it?"

"Well, he asked me to tell Sarah – you, ma'am – that –- well, he said he should have kissed you in Sydney Harbor." The corpsman looked down.

Mac mumbled her thank you and turned away. Her rage was building in her. The voices in her head were screaming, "How dare you quit now, Harmon Rabb Jr.? You have never backed down from a fight in your life. I won't let you back down from this one."

2120 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Harm was out of surgery. He survived the first part, but the hard part, the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours would be the real test.

"Mac, you need to get some rest," the admiral said.

"I'm fine sir."

"No, you aren't. You haven't slept in two days and you have been under a great deal of stress. Rabb needs the sleep too. They don't expect him to wake up for at least three to six hours – if then. So go, please. Take a shower and lie down for just a couple of hours. I promise you, I will call you if anything changes."

"Sir, I am not leaving the hospital."

"You don't have to. The bed across the hall from ICU is free. Use it colonel; that is not a suggestion."

The admiral paced the halls like a caged tiger. First checking on Harm and then on Mac. He couldn't sit still. Finally a nurse convinced him that he needed to try to relax. He moved a chair to the outside of Harm's room and sat. He made the phone calls that as a commanding officer he had made numerous times, too numerous to mention. He called Bud and Harriet and then he called Harm's mother..

Mac did as she was told. She showered and changed into scrubs that a nurse had provided for her. She lay down on the bed and drifted off into an uneasy rest – not really a sleep. A soon as she closed her eyes, images of Harm filled her head. She let them wash over her and fill her. What surprised her was the number of images that she did not remember – almost like they were wish fulfillment. Images of a past they never had or a future they might not. She let them come and comfort her, until she realized that they were all ebbing away from her. They were slipping away. The past they didn't have and the future they might not were all slipping away from her, becoming hazy and distant and out of focus. She bolted upright. He was slipping away.

0022 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

The doctors told Mac and AJ that there was reason for concern. Harm had lost a lot of blood. The bullet had damaged the pulmonary artery and lung. The heart itself wasn't damaged, but he had developed an irregular heartbeat. They further warned that even if the repair to the artery and lung were successful his risk for infection and pneumonia was very high. Until they were able to regulate the heartbeat, Harm would still be considered in critical condition. He was not even close to out of the woods yet.

Mac took all the information in without showing an outward sign. She could now no longer accept comfort or concern from anyone; she had to give everything she had to Harm. She couldn't allow her self to be weak or to let her fears take hold of her. She was once again a strict, strong, indomitable marine. The admiral was grateful that she did not need him to hold her up. AJ never learned how to deal with losing a man or woman under his command and he hated hospitals.

Mac was allowed in Harm's room. She took a chair next to the bed and watched him as he slept. She had been there for more than three hours and nothing had changed. She didn't feel she needed to talk to him, at least not aloud, but she wouldn't let go of his hand – not for a moment.

"Sarah," his voice filled her ears. "You look like hell."

She looked up and Harm was standing on the other side of the bed in full dress uniform. She looked back at the bed and he was still unconscious and the monitors were still softly keeping time with the sound of his life.

"You've looked better yourself, Hammer," she replied to the vision.

"Yeah, I suppose I have," he took a little closer look at his form on the bed. "Would you look at all the stuff I am hooked up to? Is all that really necessary?"

"You have to pull through this Harm," her voice cracked. "I need you."

"No, you don't. You've never needed me. Not even when I was playing Mighty Mouse."

"I don't need you to save me – but I need you in my life."

"Mac - Sarah – my beautiful Sarah - ," he shook his head and smiled sadly.

"I thought my _beauty_ was lost on you," she tried to smile.

"Why? Because I don't tell you all the time what a knock out you are?" he grinned. "You know it, why do I need to confirm it?"

She laughed. "You're amazing – so much like every man and so different from any man."

"An enigma."

"You're about as mysterious as a box of cornflakes."

"A box of cornflakes with a surprise inside."

"You do surprise me."

"I can say the same about you," he stepped closer to the bed. "You surprised me last night."

"I surprised myself."

They smiled a knowing smile that lovers save for each other. His face washed with pain and sadness again.

"I'm - I'm sorry Sarah."

"No - I don't accept any apology you want to give me now," she squeezed the hand of the Harm in the bed tighter. "Do you hear me? And if you die on me, I will never forgive you."

"You will. You already have."

"Your arrogance is amazing."

"Part of my charm."

"Which part, I'll have the doctors cut it out."

"The doctors – do they know what is wrong with me?"

"Your heart is beating irregularly."

"Well what do you expect – you are sitting there holding my hand – of course my pulse will be raised – you do that to me."

"Do I?"

"You know you do," he sat down on the bed by his feet. "Let's talk about that dress the other night. If you want to talk about irregular heartbeats – my god I had a whole marching band in there," he smiled at her. "Setting a trap, colonel?"

"It worked."

"Damn straight it worked – but you didn't need the dress."

She got a little serious. "Why did it work here and not back in Washington?"

"Oh - I don't know – maybe – time, distance – god knows I couldn't get you out of my head or out of my dreams," he sighed. "Hell, I saw you more after I left than I ever did when I was there – I guess here you are a fantasy come to life. I couldn't resist."

"I am very real Harm."

"I know."

"If you were thinking about me so much, why didn't you ever call?"

"Please Mac – you know the reason."

"I hate it when you do that. You always do that. Can't you say anything straight out."

"Like _**I love you**_ … _**I want you**_ … I do … you know I do."

"Now I do … I didn't know that days ago … I didn't know it when Mic showed up in Washington and I would have bet money against in after Sydney Harbor."

"I am sorry about that too … totally my bad … I was wrong."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"HEY – I'm dying here, don't you have to be nice to me?"

"No. No I don't. And you are not dying. OK. That is an order."

"Mac, I don't think I can follow that order."

"Harm."

"I'm tired, honey. I'm really tired. You have got to let go."

"No – no, I don't and you don't either."

"Honey, Sarah, Mac – please."

"There is no 'please' in this Harm. Why would you want to let go now … like this? We have everything in front of us. We finally got over the hurdle. We are on our way."

"On our way to where? We had one night, Sarah. We had one incredible night. Can't you see? That is more than most people ever get."

"That is not good enough Harm. I want a hell of a lot more than one lousy night – regardless of how incredible it was."

"Why – anything that comes after will diminish it. It was perfect – you and me and nothing else – no agendas, no one-ups-manships – nothing - just raw emotion. We will never capture that again."

"You are such a romantic."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes. Yes you are. You're dead wrong."

"Careful tossing those kind of words around."

"Look Harm. We may never have another night like last night – but we could have better – different and better – hell, worse would be fine with me."

"Sarah – you are asking for a lot."

"Damn right, I am asking for a lot. I want it all, Harm. And I deserve it."

"Mac - ," he shook his head.

"I want to be in love and be happy with a man who is in love with me – and not afraid to show it. To have my breath catch in my throat when I hear your key hit my lock. To wake up in the morning with your body wrapped around mine. To be distracted all day by thoughts of being alone with you. To go away on romantic weekends. And to have boring Saturday nights at home working on a case."

"Mac there is no guarantee we will make it to the picket fence with the 2.5 and the dog."

"I am not looking for guarantees. All I want is a chance. A chance to be in love and to fight and to make up and to break up if that is what happens. To let what happens to us happen – the way it should."

"I'd like that too … but it is not in the cards … at least not for us … maybe for you."

"No, Harm!"

"No regrets, Mac."

"I have a few."

"Think about the good times – and last night."

"I want more."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I have to go now, Sarah."

"No, don't go."

"I have to and you have to let me go," he smiled that smile. "We'll see each other again – at least that is what I've been told."

"Harm – don't. I need you."

"Not you … you don't need anyone."

"I want you … I love you."

He was backing out of the room. "I love you, Sarah. Always remember that."

"That's not enough, Harm! Harm! Don't go!!! That's an order."

The soft beating of the monitors turned to loud alarms. Nurses came rushing in; doctors came rushing in, a crash cart was ordered, a cold blue was called. Mac stood in utter confusion staring at Harm, still grasping his lifeless hand in hers. A nurse started to usher her out of the room when the noise from the monitors stopped with the exception of:

Ba-dum – ba-dum – ba-dum – ba-dum – Ba-dum – ba-dum – ba-dum – ba-dum

All the medical people looked at the monitors to see what was happening.

"We have normal sinus, doctor."

"I can see that."

"How?"

"I don't know."

Mac was still confused. She was holding on to Harm's hand so tightly it took her a moment to realize that he was squeezing it back, weakly. She looked down and saw his eyes flutter and his lips moved to talk. She leaned down and put her ear next to his mouth.

". . . Rabb, reporting as ordered, ma'am," he breathed.

Her eyes clothed and she said a silent "Thank you" to God or who ever was responsible. "Rest easy, commander," she whispered back to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** **Dead To The World – The ReWrite**

**Chapter Seven - Finale**

**By:** LizD

**Originally Written:** October 2003

**ReWritten**: Spring 2009

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.Chapter SixChapter Seven - FINALE0022 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

". . . Rabb, reporting as ordered, ma'am," he breathed.

Her eyes closed and she said a silent "Thank you" to God or whoever was responsible. "Rest easy, commander," she whispered back to him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

0632 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Harm did not rest easy that night; he woke almost hourly; his wakefulness concerned the doctors. When he stirred back to consciousness it was only long enough to squeeze Mac's hand and look at her for a brief moment and then fall back into an uneasy rest. His heartbeat remained stable and all his vital signs were great, better than could be expected, but the doctors resisted giving him any more or any stronger sedatives to put him to under. They thought Mac was disturbing him and had suggested that she wait outside – or better yet go home and get some rest herself. But the moment she pulled her hand away from his, he woke and called her name. Mac stayed.

Mac had fallen asleep sitting in the chair with her head lying on the side of the bed. Just after dawn, Harm woke and felt her next to him. He pulled his hand slowly away from hers and stroked her cheek. She woke instantly.

"Harm?"

"Hi," he smiled at her.

A sleepy smile crossed her face. "Hi."

"You OK?" His voice was thin and raspy and he was struggling to speak.

"Yeah," she shook her head amazed that he would be so concerned about her after barely surviving yet another gun shot wound.

"Dobbs had you – a gun – I couldn't get to you."

"You don't remember what happened?"

"A little fuzzy. Dobbs?" he tried to sit up but didn't have the strength.

"Dobbs is dead."

"Hurt you?" he croaked out.

"No. I'm fine. He shot you, before you shot him. You got to me. You saved my life - again," she reminded him.

"Don't remember."

"It will come back."

"You OK?" he asked a third time.

"I'm fine – now I'm fine. But you scared the hell out of me."

"Won't do it again," he closed his eyes and smiled.

"Yes, you will," she shook her head and fought to keep her eyes dry. "How are you feeling?"

"Out of it. Pain in my chest," he tried to lift his other hand to where the wound was, but it was attached to several IVs. What happened?"

"You nearly died."

"You ordered me not to," he stated softly.

'He remembers that.' she thought. An odd expression crossed her face. The conversation she had with him in the night couldn't have been real. It was just in her mind, right? She was sure of it. Even when he woke and said something about reporting as ordered, she was not sure if that was what he really said, or if it had anything to do with the conversation she had in her head.

"Mac?"

"I did – I ordered you not to," her voice cracked.

"Is this how it is going to be from now on?" he smiled weakly. "You giving me orders?"

The doctor came in. "Good morning commander, colonel. You are looking a lot better than you did several hours ago."

"Thanks, doc."

"Colonel, we are going to need the room." Mac nodded. "Go home and get some rest – the hard part is over."

She looked at Harm and he nodded.

"We are going to give him a very strong sedative – should put a rhino down for a week - that ought to give you a good eight hours, colonel."

"Harm?"

"Go home Mac – well not home home – just -."

"I understand." She reluctantly let go of his hand and then was at a loss if she was supposed to kiss him goodbye or not, particularly with the doctor standing right there. In the end she just touched his cheek, took a long look at him and left.

He watched her go and did not turn his attention back to the doctor until she was well out of sight.

"She never left your side, commander."

"The only reason I am still here," Harm smiled up at the doctor. "I guess you helped, too."

**0859 ZULU - US Naval Base - Naples Italy – Harm's Quarters**

Mac turned on the shower as hot as her skin could stand it. She was totally wrecked. Every muscle in her body was screaming out, she still felt Harm's blood on her, she still felt his hand firmly clenched in her own. She stripped down out of the scrubs and stepped into the steaming water and let it pour down on top of her. Now the tears came. The tears she had been holding back for hours that felt like days. They rained down her face and mixed with the shower – all would be washed away. Then the worst thing that could have happened happened. Mac started to think; to think and question.

So much had happened in the last sixty-one hours – since he picked her up for the embassy reception – the entire gamut of her emotions had been tried, tested and stretched to the limit. Was it possible for them to snap back? Or had they been stretched beyond their usefulness? Nothing felt normal or safe to her. She was in a foreign country, out of her element (hospitals were not Mac's forte) and all alone. The admiral was there, but in the end he was her commanding officer not a friend. She could not discuss with him the emotions she was dealing with; she could barely acknowledge them to herself.

Harm was too weak to allow him to see her uncertainty. As she thought back on the last several hours/days all they really had done was admit that they loved each other and had an incredible night of intimacy like she had never known. Why did she feel like the ground had been taken out from under her; rather the bridge had been burned behind her? She believed that there was nothing to fall back on and the future was too uncertain. She wasn't making it up – he said as much and she felt as much. She felt more alone than she had in years. The only thing she could ever count on Harm for – really count on him for – was to be there for her in a crisis. And he was again and again it nearly cost him his life. Harm and Mac were always best in crisis mode. But they could not live in crisis; could they live without it? After the past few intense days – where were they? What was she to him? He to her? Were they friends? Colleagues? Lovers? Partners? How much had changed? How much had stayed the same? How much was gained? And how much was lost? How was she supposed to feel about any of it? How did she want to feel about any of it? What had Harm felt about it before? And now after waking up from another near death experience, what was he thinking? All she had were questions; questions with no clear answers.

The scalding steam drew the stress from every pore and opened the seals on the thoughts in her head. She started to process them, to organize them, to rank them as to their importance to her and her life. They had talked some, but said really nothing. She kept going back to their night together. The more she thought of him and the feelings that were created that night, the more she was confused. Now all his words, his statements in frustration, anger, fear and love were tied up in the physical sensations of that experience coupled with sweet protestations of love. When she closed her eyes and let her mind drift she could feel him move over her, under her, next to her. She felt his desire deep with in her. She felt her own desire over power her logic and reason (something Mac was not too familiar with). The passion, the joy, the sheer physical pleasure was caught up in her head as his words spun in and around:

The water from the shower was turning cool. It would be cold in moments and she had yet to pick up the soap. Reality again took hold of her. She left the shower steam cleaned and crawled into bed – his bed. She shouldn't have gone back there, but there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She could smell him. She could smell them. There was nothing to do but wait. She checked to be sure that the ringer on the phone was turned up and that her cell phone was on, charging and right next to her ear. Harm was still not out of the woods and the only thing she knew for sure was that she needed to be there for him. Sleep took her – soft, sweet, safe sleep. She did not dream. She did not toss or turn and woke six hours later not refreshed but revitalized - enough. She got up, showered again, dressed and went down to the hospital.

1632 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Harm was still asleep when she got there. The admiral was talking to the doctor.

"Colonel."

"Sir, is the commander alright?"

"Everything appears to be progressing better than anticipated. There is still some concern of infection, but the doctors are very positive."

"Excellent, sir."

"Colonel, I need to ask you to do me a favor."

Mac nodded.

The admiral was a little tentative. "Please, this is not an order, but --."

"What is it sir?"

"I need to assign you TAD to Naples until Commander Rabb's replacement has been secured."

"Sir?"

"Commander Jackson will be brought up on charges, as well as Admiral Shenandoah."

"Charges, sir?"

"You are probably unaware, 'conduct unbecoming' and anything else I can find to throw at them."

"I don't understand, sir."

"It has been brought to my attention that each has allowed themself to be put in a position to be black mailed – rather coerced by Adriana Marlanette. They have been sent home to Washington and pending review and an article 32 – they will not be back. With Commander Rabb in the hospital that leaves me without a JAG in this office. It will only be until Rabb's replacement has been secured."

"Absolutely sir." Mac knew immediately that Harm's replacement could have been found in six hours. The admiral was trying to be nice. He was giving her a way to stay in Italy – close to Harm - and feel useful at the same time. "As you see fit."

The nurse came to tell them Harm was awake. Mac allowed the admiral to see him first. She knew that she would be staying longer. While Mac was waiting Trish Burnett, Harm's mother arrived. She looked tired, frustrated and crazed.

"Colonel MacKenzie – where is my son?" she asked bruskly.

Mac nodded to Harm's room. "He is on the road to recovery, ma'am."

"I would like see that for myself."

"The admiral is in with him now. He should be out in a moment."

"Good, that will give us a moment to speak."

"Ma'am?"

"How do you feel about my son?" she asked frankly.

"Excuse me?"

"It is a direct question, colonel. How do you feel about my son?"

"Harm is very important to me." Mac was a little off balance.

"As he is to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"So you will also understand that I don't like getting phone calls telling me that my son AGAIN has put his life on the line and narrowly escaped death."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can also understand my frustration at the number of times his life has been put in danger because of you."

Mac was completely taken aback.

"Which is why I ask the question 'how do you feel about my son.'" Mac nodded. "If he is going to lose his life for you, I would like to know that it is not in vain."

"Mrs. Burnett I understand how upsetting -."

"Drop the mock formality Mac, we may not know each other very well, but we do know enough about each other."

"Ma'am?"

"If you are not in love with my son, I would request that you tell him that straight out and walk away. Pure and simple. Walk away. You have been nothing but trouble since the day you walked into his life. Walk away, Mac."

"Ma'am," Mac was about to defend herself.

"Just think about it," she turned and strode into Harm's room; just as the admiral was walking out.

Mac waited out of sight for several hours until Mrs. Burnett left. She slipped into Harm's room. It was well after visiting hours. She thought he was sleeping so she stayed back.

"Sarah?" he called to her.

"I'm here," she said softly.

"Where have you been?" he waved her over.

"I thought I would let you visit with your mother."

"She didn't mean what she said to you," he shook his head.

"She told you?"

"My mother is nothing if not direct," he defended her. "Yes, she told me. She was just upset and took it out on you."

"There is some merit to her argument." Mac stated.

"I see nothing that will hold up in court."

Mac's eyes told him that there might be.

"Do you want to?" he asked. Mac did not respond. "Do you want to walk away?"

She turned away for a moment. Turning back to him, her eyes were full of tears. "No," she hated appearing weak in his eyes.

"Hey, come here," he reached his hand out to her. She took it and came close to him. He pulled her down to him and let her cry into his chest.

After a few moments she wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that."

"Your secret is safe with me," he soothed. Harm touched her face.

"This is all so confusing. There are times when I feel I have no right to be here."

"You do – you have every right. I spoke to my mother. She will back off."

"It is not just her, Harm," she took a deep breath. "She is right. You put your life in danger for me – a lot."

"Don't flatter yourself – I thrive on danger," he smiled trying to lighten her mood.

"Well, you got to stop that. You are scaring the hell out of everyone."

"Everyone?"

"Yes, me included."

He took her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"Yeah, well, I am getting used to worrying about you. After five years I am getting pretty good at it and I am fairly sure the worst is still yet to come."

"So I suppose that means you won't consider re-upping for a few more years?"

She wasn't quite sure what he was asking her. She wasn't about to put words in his mouth and she didn't want to press him. "I still have time left on this tour. Let's see how it goes."

"It would put you in line for a nice promotion," he teased.

Now Mac was totally confused. Did he just ask her to marry him? Or to go steady? Or was he just saying nothing hoping that she would take it as something. – typical Harm. She didn't know how to respond, and luckily she didn't have to. She was saved by the nurse.

"I'm sorry colonel, you will need to leave. Visiting hours are over."

"She is no visitor," Harm explained. "She is the best medicine a man like me could ask for.'

"It's Ok, Harm. I'll be right outside."

"You are not going back to your quarters?" he asked.

"Slept all day. I'll be right outside the door."

She slowly released her hand from his and stepped outside the door. Trish Burnett was waiting for her.

"Sarah, let me buy you a cup of coffee," she smiled. "We need to talk – woman to woman."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, drop the ma'am. Call me Trish."

Mac nodded. She had no intention of calling her 'Trish.'

Several hours later the doctor found Mac sitting outside Harm's door.

"Colonel?" she looked up. "He will be sleeping all night, you should go home yourself."

"I'm fine," she smiled weakly.

"Look, I am not supposed to do this, but if you promise not to tell any one, come on." The doctor opened the door to Harm's room and let Mac precede him. He checked Harm's vitals and nodded to her and left.

Mac stood for hours in the shadows watching him sleep. It was in those hours that she made her decision about what she had to do. It was her second conversation with Trish that convinced her to make a very difficult decision. But it would have to wait until he was out of the hospital. Mac was never very good at waiting, but soon it would be over.

TWO WEEKS LATER - 1016 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Harm was up and around and they would be releasing him in a couple of days. It was still unclear where he would report to work. As much as he wanted to go back to Washington, it would mean that they shouldn't see each other. There was some talk about going back to the Seahawk. The new JAG in Naples would we arriving that afternoon and with a normal transfer period (two days), Mac would be on her way back to Washington. Harm and Mac had talked around a lot of their issues – Harm's natural desire to avoid dealing with anything personal head on was still very prominent, but Mac did not push anything. The days were waning and soon something was going to have to be discussed and agreed upon or they were in danger of letting everything they gained this time slip away.

Harm and Mac were going over some cases that she was working on. She had been kept very busy over the last few weeks. There was a quick knock on his door and then a woman – larger than life woman – burst in.

"STANLEY!" She called out.

"STELLA!" He echoed back.

The woman – Stella – was in a flight suit, a commander on the Seahawk. She was tall and blonde with piercing blue eyes – she was absolutely mesmerizing to watch.

"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing goldbricker – we got jets to fly, bad guys to catch."

"I'm there, Stella-baby," he laughed.

She made her way to Harm and pulled his face to hers and kissed him smack on the lips. The kiss was returned. Mac was blown away by their reaction to each other.

"How the hell are you, Stella?" he continued.

"Lonely. Need my wing man," she finally noticed Mac. "Sorry dearie, was I interrupting?" she looked down at all the papers and then back at Rabb. "You still trying to pretend that you're a lawyer?"

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie this is Commander Melanie "Stella" Kowalski. Stella and I were on the Seahawk together."

"Best damn pilot in the Navy – male or female." Stella announced.

"Hey!" Harm played. "Flew circles around you, sweet cheeks."

Mac gathered her files together. "I'll let you two visit," she said.

Harm was about to protest, when Stella jumped in. "Thanks, colonel. Stanley and I have a little catching up and planning to do. We got to bust you out of here. Heard you were coming back to the Seahawk."

"Has not been confirmed."

Mac smiled a smile at Harm that he could not interpret. Was she mad? Annoyed? Jealous? Amused? Resolved? "I'll leave you two to it," she left.

Harm watched the door close.

"Oh, son . . . you got it bad." Stella declared. "Looks like I got here just in time."

"Stella!"

"So is she the one? The one you ran from?"

"Not running this time."

"No, this time you are gonna put your neck out there on the chopping block of your own free will. Sucker."

"Come on, Stell," he shook his head. "You know what it's like."

"Yeah, I do. And you get over it."

"What if I don't want to get over it?"

"Well," she looked back at the closed door. "She is quite a looker."

"She is a lot more than that."

"For you to know, Stan. Just remember, flying is in your blood and your first love. Anyone who is in your life will always take a back seat to that," she laughed. "For some women that is just not acceptable."

Harm nodded. Mac was probably one of those women.

1743 ZULU – US Navy Hospital, Naples Italy

Mac came back at the end of her day. She was acting very - normal. They exchanged a few pleasantries and then Harm launched in.

"What did you think of Stella?"

"She is something else."

"She's great," he stated a little too gregariously. "A great pilot too."

"So she says." Mac realized that Harm was baiting her so she played along. "You two seem to have a lot in common."

"She and I were in sync from the first moment we met. When we fly together we don't need to talk – we know each other's moves that well."

"It is important in a partner to know how the other thinks."

"Very important," Harm agreed wondering where Mac was going.

"She is very attractive."

"Extremely attractive – stunning some say."

"Striking blue eyes."

"Piercing – she looks right through you."

"Your children would be beautiful," Mac announced.

"Good genes," Harm only barely missed a beat.

"They would all be little pilots."

He smiled. "One problem."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Mac apologized. "What's the problem?"

"I am not in love with her."

"Well, I am sure that will come in time," she remained stoic.

"Maybe – but probably not."

"Really?"

"Gave my heart to someone else. Nothing left for poor Stella."

"Not sure I would use 'poor' and 'Stella' in the same sentence."

"Don't you want to know who I gave my heart to?" he grabbed her hand and tried to pull her onto his lap.

"Don't," she stopped him. "We need to talk. I am leaving tomorrow – early AM," she blurted out.

"What?" he let go of her hand.

"The new commander has been brought up to speed and the admiral has ordered me back to Washington. You will be leaving the hospital in a day or so and headed out to your new duty station. Time for me to go."

"Mac? I thought you would stay a couple of days – at least -"

"No reason to put it off," she was being very standoffish.

"I can think of one to two."

"We knew this day would come."

"Not tomorrow, I didn't."

"Well, it is."

He was annoyed that she didn't seem disappointed. "You seem happy to be going."

"I'm not, not really."

"Then what?"

"I suppose I am happy that now we have to actually say something."

"Mac," he sat up. "If you wanted to talk – had something to say - you didn't need to wait until you had twelve hours left."

"I was enjoying our time," she defended.

"Me too."

"So – what do we do?" she asked.

"You know I have been offered the Seahawk – and not just as JAG."

"Yes. And I know how much it means to you to be in a place where you can fly."

"Flying has always been my first choice – but to get to do both - ."

"It is an opportunity that would be hard to pass up," she actually sounded like she understood.

"The admiral has offered me a position at JAG HQ, buy working together might be complicated."

"It always was."

"They might transfer one of the other of us anyway."

"True," she agreed. "But it is a career move for you. So the complications can be worked out and if eventually it comes time for one of us to transfer … well I suppose we shouldn't put the cart too much before the horse."

Harm was getting a little frustrated. Mac was not making any demands or giving any instructions to him. "What do you want Mac?"

"I want what I have always wanted – a chance."

"A chance for what?"

"A chance to make it work between us," she stated.

"That means you want me to come back to JAG," he said triumphantly.

"I didn't say that," she got up and moved to the other side of the room. "Harm you are who you are – first and foremost you're a pilot. I understand that. Really I do. I would not ask you to give it up for anything and particularly not for me."

"My flying scares the hell out of you."

"Yes it does. But you don't need a plane to push the envelope – you have been shot twice in the last five months because of me."

"Not your fault," he corrected.

"Hell, you are probably safer flying."

Harm figured out where the attitude was coming from. "You have been talking to my mother again."

"Your mother has a unique perspective." Mac did not admit that she and Trish had spoken. "She lost a husband and lives in fear of losing a son, but she would never ask you not to fly or be anything less than you are."

He studied her for a moment. "You will not sit at home terrified that the phone will ring or there will be a knock on the door from two uniformed officers with a telegram."

"Harm, please. I trust you. If there is anyway you can make it home you will."

"You sound very rational – even for you."

"Why wouldn't I be? Would you ask me to give up anything about myself?"

"No," he took a deep breath. "But you were pretty impressed with Brumby sacrifice."

"And look where that go me?" She sighed. "I want you - no I need you to be who you are – not some tamed version of that," she paused. "Yes, it would be much easier to have a relationship if we were in the same 100 miles. Yes, it would be easier knowing that you were taking a briefcase to work rather than an F-14, but I can live with that," she took a breath. "You could very easily say that I needed to transfer to the Med. Would I do it? I would rather not."

"Point taken," he took her hand. "What would that mean for us?"

"It would mean that we would have a lot of e-mails to read and a very large phone bill and probably some pretty heated weekend leaves," she smiled.

"Absence does make the heart grow fonder," he pulled her to him and she did not resist this time. "As we have already proven."

She kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Do you want to know what I want?" he continued.

"What?"

"I want more time."

"Yeah, me too."

"Take me home."

"What?"

"Take me home – come on. Let's check out of this place and go home."

"Is that a good idea?"

"It is either that or we need to figure out how to lock that door," he kissed her.

**0659 ZULU - US Naval Base - Naples Italy - Guest Officer's Quarters**

Mac pulled herself from Harm's embrace. Her cab would be there in twenty minutes.

"So soon?" his sleepy voice called to her.

"I'm afraid so."

"Sarah, we are going to be OK," he was reassuring himself as much as her.

"Yeah," her voice was full of sadness. She tried to check it, but she couldn't.

"This is only temporary."

"Sure it is," she had dressed and finished packing. She was ready to go.

He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. When he drew back to look in her eyes he lost his power of speech. He wanted to tell her that he loved her; that they would be together soon, that she should not worry about him – but all of that was already reflected back. They kissed again and the cab horn beeped. Silently Mac got up and left without looking back.

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Time was passing as it always did for Mac. It seemed that everything fell back into place after she returned from Italy with the exception that Harm now called her often and emailed her several times a day. Because of the time change and their odd duty hours they spoke rarely and their e-mails were more newsy than personal. But Mac filled her time with her triathlon training, work and friends. Mac was even making a better effort with Kate to be a friend. Mac still felt very lonely.

For Harm – life could not have been better. He was more than the JAG on the Seahawk; he was a back up pilot and flew several missions a week. And he was in love and had a 'girl back home' waiting for him. How romantic. It was the best of all possible worlds for him. At least that is how his e-mails home and phone calls sounded. He might have been over compensating a little.

Harm and Mac had made plans to see each other the following weekend. They were going to meet in Greece, but the plans fell through one morning. She was given a murder case and he was bumped up when another pilot broke his leg. It was neither one's fault, but both were very disappointed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Yeah, me too."

"We'll try again in a couple of weeks."

"Sure."

"Mac, Sarah – I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"It won't always be like this." Words that had become his mantra.

"I know." She was tired of hearing them.

Mac felt it all slipping away and knew there was not a thing she could do about it. This was how it was going to be – maybe not forever, but for the foreseeable future. Could their relationship survive? Mac was thinking that the odds were against it.

**SIX WEEKS LATER**

"WOMEN!" Harm slammed into the pilot's locker room and tossed something into his open locker.

The only person in the room was Stella. "Gotta problem there sailor?" she laughed.

"She is pissed at me," he stated. "I can't believe it … but she is pissed at me."

"What do you want?" she laughed at him again. "How many weekends have you canceled on her?"

"It isn't always me, you know."

"Yeah … well … you didn't need to this time," Stella stated. "This one is on your head."

"We have a mission …"

"That you VOLUNTEERED FOR," Stella reminded him. "You didn't need to."

"Yes I do."

"It is a baby sitting mission for the VP … you trying to gain points with the higher ups?" she laughed. "For that you should go back to Washington."

He slammed his locker shut. "I can't believe she is pissed at me," he stated again.

A few other pilots came in and were immediate involved in the conversation.

"Crashed and burned, eh Hammer?" one of them jibbed.

"Gonna need some fancy move to pull out of this mess, Rabby?" the other jabbed. "Hope you got it in you, OLD MAN."

Harm was about to defend himself with the boys when Stella interrupted him.

Something occurred to her. "This was the weekend you were going to ask her to marry you, wasn't it?"

Harm nodded, shrugged and otherwise made gestures like 'what difference does it make now?'

"OH brother … tell me you didn't tell her that on the phone," Stella stated.

Harm looked at the other guys. Clearly he had. "What?"

"Bad move, Harm."

"Really bad … hope it's not fatal."

They walked out.

Harm looked back at Stella. "Why would it be fatal?"

"Women don't want consolation prizes Harm."

"How is that a consolation prize?"

She laughed. "Say you propose, say you even get married … as long as you are on this ship … NOTHING has changed. The whole engagement/marriage thing is a consolation prize." She clapped him on the back. "You are just giving her something that costs you NOTHING so you can slept better at night," she clapped him again. "You really are a sucker, Rabb. Better get your priorities straight or you are going to lose everything."

**SIX DAYS LATER**

**2218 EST - MacKenzie Residence, Georgetown, VA**

The last conversation they had was not very good. She was testy and irritable – not over anything specific, just generally she was not interested in playing the loving supportive girlfriend sitting back home waiting for her man to return from war. He made some comment – that she barely registered – about asking her to marry him, and she blew it off. When he started to press her about her mood, and her lack of response to his statement, she snapped at him and apologized but the conversation did not end on a nice note. She did e-mail him to apologize, and got a very nice response, but they had not spoken again.

That was days ago. He had said he was going on a mission and would be out of touch for a while. She was worried, but did not let it scare her. She was making plans to keep her career and life moving forward, even though her personal life was still on hold. JAG was becoming unbearable. Too many people knew her business. She requested and was granted a transfer to Quantico. She had not told Harm about it yet, but it really would not make much difference to him. What is a hundred miles more or less?

She had just gotten back from a fifteen-mile run and was sorting through some files that she needed to return to JAG when a knock came on her door. A fear seized her. She looked through the peephole and there was a uniformed man standing there with his back to the door.

"Oh dear God, no," she said before she opened the door.

The man turned. Mac's heart jolted up to her throat. It was Harm. She had not realized how afraid she was until that moment when she saw him standing before her. She folded into his open arms. He buried his face in her neck. They held on for a long time. Finally he mumbled something inaudible into her hair.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm home."

"I can see that. How long?"

"No," he pulled back to look at her. "I am home – for good."

"I don't understand."

"If you'll have me – I want to come home," he smiled "- to you."

"I don't -," she wasn't refusing him. She just was confused. Less than five minutes prior she was thinking about how to keep her life moving forward without Harm in it on a daily basis and now he was standing there saying he was home for good.

"It took me a little while," he explained. "I have my priorities straight now. I want you. I want us. I want our life together," he was sincere. "Will you have me?"

"Harm?"

"It won't be easy – but nothing ever worth having is. Will you at least give me a chance … give us a chance?"

"I'm not -."

"All I am asking for is a chance."

"Harm."

"Mac I want to be in love and together – not thousands of miles apart. I want to share the closet with you. To wake up in the morning with your body wrapped around mine. To be distracted all day by thoughts of being alone with you. To go away on romantic weekends. And to have boring Saturday nights at home working on a case. I want Christmas, New Years and Fourth of July – hell I want all the holidays and the days and nights between. I want to pick out wallpaper and fight over the toilet seat."

She was tearing up.

"And if we are very lucky we will get the 2.5, the dog and the picket fence," he took her hand. "I want it all."

She was speechless.

"Please Mac," he knelt down in front of her. "Give me a chance … give us a chance. Will you have me? Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

He pulled her down to him and they kissed.

There we leave them to figure out a future and a life for themselves. I am sure you will all join with me in wishing them good luck, Godspeed and much happiness in their life ahead. God knows the road will be rocky, but if any two people deserve a little happiness – if only for a little while – it is Harm and Mac.

Thank you all for re-reading along with me. I am not sure this version has as much impact as the last version because it interrupt the ridiculousness that was Mac and Brumby and too it completely off the Paraguay trail – a good thing I think, but in the end more natural for their getting together and less … well less JAG LIKE.

Thank you to all the readers and the reader/reviewers for your support.


End file.
